


Love Machine

by Princess_Booplesnoot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Author was sexually frustrated, Big Brother Thor (Marvel), Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dom!Bruce, Electricity, F/M, Fisting, Freeuse, How Do I Tag, Human Disaster Clint Barton, Human sex toy (??), I'm Going to Hell, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), M/M, Memes, Multi, Oh God Yes, Orgy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Sex Pollen, Spitroasting, That's what it's called, The Author Regrets Nothing, Threesome - F/M/M, Warning: Loki (Marvel), and drunk, is that a kink??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-10-19 02:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20649812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Booplesnoot/pseuds/Princess_Booplesnoot
Summary: Lucy was just minding her own business when some dirtbags screwed up her date and doused the whole cafeteria with a sex pollen, the symptoms of which can only be relieved by having sex with someone. Despite the discomfort, she is surrounded by our favorite superheroes and Tony Stark himself volunteers to, err, help her with relief. Lucy might think the worst Friday of her life might get better after all, but things take a turn for the downright unbelievable when she ventures to the communal kitchen for a post-coital snack...AKA the sex-pollen fic that slowly turns into an orgy, that nobody asked for.





	1. before the flame burns out

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to add pairings as the chapters come. Generally, I will try to stick with a chapter dedicated to each superhero with some plot at the beginning. It's going to have some feels and the obligatory Steve/Bucky that everyone needs in their lives and the highly selective Thor/Natasha and Clint/Wanda. Tony's a manwhore (but in a good way) and Loki is a diva. Brucie is just everyone's favorite Daddy and soft and and UwU.

"I can't believe her actual name is Lucinda. What is this, the 1880s?"

"Intel says she's going by Lucy nowadays."

"Lucy is... Lucy sounds like something an airheaded college sophomore would be called. I look at her face and I can't see _Lucy_ there, I just can't - alright?"

Natasha sighed, she did that a lot with Clint. One would have thought she'd get used to the archer's shenanigans over the years, but alas, on days like these she still got annoyed at Clint for his dumb questions, inappropriate humor and downright absurdity. He got riled up over the stupidest things sometimes - so what if the girl has an outdated name? The Kardashians literally named their baby _North West_, which is a direction and not a human designation. Try explaining that to Thor or Loki - the trickster already not being overly fond of humanity anyway, stupid names only breeding more reasons for ridicule.

Natasha massaged her temples, feeling a headache starting somewhere in the back of her skull. It was a miracle in itself the girl told her name and gave her own ID considering the situation they were in, rather the _state_ Lucy and a few SHIELD agents found themselves... _Compromised_, her brain unhelpfully supplied. The word brought back painful memories for the red-headed spy.

The Widow silently cursed out Odin, Zeus, Jesus and all the other gods she managed to remember. It had to be Friday of all days, when it was team bonding time and absolutely not world-saving time. Unless the world needed saving. Again.

Bucky was just about to place their usual pizza order when Phil called, urgently ushering the Avengers to one of the SHIELD safehouses. It was less of a house, really, and more of biohazard containment site, everyone knew it, so they promptly suited up and raced there, armed and prepared to contain whatever nasty was whipped up on some coocoo's lab while they were lining up to binge-watch Lucifer and snuggle on the enormous couch Tony had custom-made just for _those_ occasions.

Phil cut to the chase: sex pollen. A bunch of SHIELD employees and a couple of civilians had been hit with a sex-pollen rendering them into sex-zombies, desperate to hump anything that had a pulse. "Anything" was said so pointedly that the team's archer made a beeline for the surveillance tapes from the area, running to the nearest trash bin within minutes of watching the first one. "Dog" was all he managed to grunt in-between puking out his guts.

It took SHIELD an uncomfortable amount of resources to tame the twenty or so people who were affected by the pollen and a lot of snickering was had, trying to pry them one from another to be divided and placed into solitary cells with steel reinforced doors and absolutely zero phallic and gripping objects. A note was passed to the budgeting team to stock up medical with skin ointments, much to the mirth of everyone unaffected. It would be plain funny and not terrifying at all if the people who got dosed wouldn't have given in so strongly into their hindbrain, going as far as to attack and try forcing themselves unto others, but alas, whatever the concoction was, it was strong and potent, the antidote wasn't even in the first stages of development yet.

The girl, Lucinda O'Riley, _Lucy_, was the only one who was coherent. She was found hiding in the storage closet, armed with a broomstick. Her wide hazel eyes looked crazed and out of focus, pupils blown wide in a mixture of terror and arousal, long red hair frizzy, clothes torn and glasses askew. When two hazmat-wearing, stun gun wielding agents busted open the flimsy door, Lucy honest-to-god growled and clumsily poked at one of them with the blunt end of the stick. One of the agents cursed and tried to pry it from her hands, Lucy unexpectedly calming in response.

"You're not one of those maniacs, are you?" she said through gritted teeth, a hint of desperation showing in her voice.

Upon receiving a negative answer along with a promise of a safe place and medical assistance, she let herself to be half-dragged, half-walked out and delivered to the SHIELD HQ. Which is where she met Natasha: the Widow was tasked with questioning the woman to find out why the hell isn't she a lust-ridden animal like everyone else and to ascertain whether Lucy was safe enough to meet Bruce Banner, the avenger-doctor SHIELD invited to work on the antidote.

Arrived at the HQ, she was placed in a solitary confinement cell like the rest of the affected, with the exception of being allowed the basic furnishings - a table, chair, bed and a water carafe along with a single glass. Once the door locked behind the guard, Lucy promptly downed half the water while simultaneously tugging off her denim jacket, pouring the rest of the water over herself once the jacket was removed. Her plain white crop top, already torn almost in half, clung to her wet skin, exposing her curves; an hourglass body, small waist with comically large breasts and wide hips, pearly white skin that seemed to never have seen a sun ray.

The girl ran her hands along her sides before visibly growling and gathering her hair in a bun with angry, jerky movements. She looked around, spotted the small red light at the ceiling and nodded to it; Natasha 'hmm'ed and turned, striding towards the door, all intentions on getting the truth out of this woman. The Widow missed Lucy wrap herself in a blanket and curl up in the corner of the bed, the only visible body parts being her face and her hands that nervously and impatiently scrunched the bedsheets.

\---

The door opened with a quiet hiss, bright lights turned on, illuminating the small containment unit Lucy was imprisoned in. She jumped when she saw Natasha enter with a tablet and a couple bottles of water in her hands, jaw set in determination and eyes questioning. The spy made a move to sit down on the bed next to Lucy.

"Could you, like, not? I don't trust myself right now." Lucy avoided looking at Natasha, her cheeks the color of ripe beets.

Natasha simply leaned on the table.

"What's going on? What's going to happen to me? Is this even fixable?" Lucinda still spoke through gritted teeth, like she was in pain. Natasha pulled out her Stark issue tablet and pulled up a messaging app, typing "I think she's in pain" in the chatbox.

A message bubble appeared, green in color: "Ask her about any other symptoms. Headache, heartbeat, stuff like that". It's best to hurry this up, Natasha thought, and get Bruce all he needs.

"You have been exposed to a dangerous chemical. Our specialists are working on the antidote this very moment. Can you tell me how you are feeling?"

"I feel like I'm 14 again and want to jump the nearest person, for fuck's sake! I didn't even like the guy I went out with in that damn cafe, but bang, there's some gas grenade or shit and I'm ready to hop on that sausage train!" The girl answered hotly.

Natasha had to stifle a chuckle at the girl's expression, it clearly said "are you an idiot or something?". Instead, the spy clarified: "Are you in pain? Is your heart racing?"

Lucy visibly shook when she took a long breath and answered in a calmer tone: "Yes, severe abdominal cramping similar to what I experience during menstruation. Quickened pulse, elevated body temperature, some muscle soreness and shortness of breath..." She paused, blushing even more - if that was possible, considering her cheeks surpassed the "red" stage sometime ago and were steadily going into "purple", "And uh, very persistent arousal. I think all my mucous tissues are dry except _that_ one."

"Oh," deadpan voice of Natasha was followed by quick tapping noises of her relying the message to Bruce. The doctor answered with a thumbs up emoji (such a dork), and kept typing more. "Are you studying medicine?" Natasha asked Lucy to fill the silence. The girl couldn't be older than twenty, round, baby-faced and freckled skin.

Lucy's chuckle was filled with pain, but she smiled nonetheless: "No, not currently, but I'd like to - can't say the same about student debt."

Natasha chuckled in return, eyeing the message Bruce had just sent her: "Is Lucinda well enough to be brought over for some testing?" Natasha gave the girl a once-over and decided to ask.

"How do you feel about going to the lab to draw some blood and get a MRI?"

"Honestly, no idea," Lucy raised her eyebrows and chewed her lip, "I think I can walk and contain my urges if there's no loud noise and nobody touches me skin-to-skin. That seems to worsen the, uh, symptoms," she added thoughtfully.

In response, Natasha protracted a gloved hand which Lucy grasped, shimmying off that blanket, the spy's other hand already typing the response to Dr. Banner. The affected girl walked unsteady on her own feet, wincing and holding her abdomen with the free hand. Natasha's senses were on high alert, body taut, prepared to hold up or subdue the feverish, shaky redhead, should her symptoms worsen.

Lucy must've felt Romanoff's discomfort because she made a vague attempt at small talk: "Man, this is the _suckiest_ Friday since I attempted to out-drink a frat house. At least that night I can't remember, saves me the embarrassment."

Natasha chuckled appropriately and added, "Aren't you a little too young for that?"

Lucy lifted her nose enough from the floor to give Natasha a stink-eye, "Yeah, I know I look underage. I'm turning 22 in September. I'm, like, the adultiest adult to ever adult in this city."

The spy chuckled again, this time for real. Lucy was all snark and sarcasm despite her predicament, which was a good sign. There might still be a chance they will create the cure before the chemical forces her instincts to take over the mind, which would mean less psychological damage.

Lucy limped side by side with Natasha into the wide doors of the lab, greeted by two men in lab coats and a few men in various spandex outfits. She blearily looked around, tightening her grip on Natasha's hand, enticing an inquiring look from the latter.

"Stupid sexy superheroes!" Lucy muttered barely above silent level. Natasha squeezed her hand back and directed her to a gurney, where the girl promptly flopped down and curled up in a ball, putting the pillow over her face.

"She's all yours, Bruce!" the spy said, startling the scientist, sitting down on a chair next to her teammates. Lucy emitted an audible groan from her hiding spot and threw the second pillow in the vicinity of Black Widow. Steve grumbled at the spy, being next to her and having caught the flying pillow with his chest.

\---

... his broad, hard, muscular chest. _Fuck mE_, Lucy growled inwardly, desperately fighting the urge to run over to America's Golden Boy and tear off his tac suit, strip by strip. She'd seen him on TV in that suit, it was skintight, defining his already defined pecs and flat stomach, hugging his pert, round ass cheeks...

Someone dared to poke at her pillow and she swatted the hand away, annoyed.

"Miss, could you please give me your arm? I'm going to draw your blood now."

That must be Bruce Banner. He had such a deep voice, with a smooth, fatherly tone to it... Lucy extended her arm, squirming, trying to make it obvious how much she _wasn't_ rubbing her thighs together. Her underwear had accumulated so much moisture she was sure one could wring it out and fill up a bucket, her last morsels of dignity thanking her for wearing black jeans.

Cool, strong, smooth, gloved hands touched her arm, poking the underside of her elbow as she violently shuddered, barely biting back the moan that nearly escaped her lips.

"Can you, like, just jam it in there?" Lucy's hoarse voice emitted from behind the pillow. She sounded like she'd already had her mouth pounded by a nice, thick cock that made her gag and spilled down her throat, only to be immediately replaced with another one, and another one after that. A throaty sigh escaped her lips when she felt the sharp, cold tip of the needle breach her skin and the familiar tugging sensation of blood leaving her body. The moment of pain temporarily cleared her head and she gave a vague thumbs up with the other hand to the doc, hoping he noticed it.

"There you go, you're doing wonderful, miss," Banner spoke in a caring tone, his bedside manner impeccable. She heard him shuffling away from her bed and was grateful he did so; her loins and lust-muddled brain, unhelpful as ever, gleefully provided the images of her sinking down on his cock, moaning "yes, daddy" as her wet, hot pussy milked his thickness down to every last drop, the doctor letting praise fall from his lips.

"Nu-uh, no. Nope." Lucy said to herself, loudly and sternly.

\---

"Nope!"

The superheroes all exchanged pointed looks at Lucy's words. Tony and Clint, ever mature, started snickering amongst themselves.

"I bet she's mentally giving Bruce the ride of his life right now!" Clint leaned to whisper into Tony's ear, billionaire enthusiastically shaking his head in quiet laughter. The doctor in question blushed, adjusting his glasses uncomfortably and shuffled away where some vials stood, full of colorful liquid, and the machines beeped and blooped, showing numbers on their respective screens.

"I can hear you laughing, asshole!" Lucy's deadpan grumpy tone interrupted their snickering. Steve didn't hold back and palmed his face along with Loki and Thor who were quietly hanging out in the back of the room.

"You just called Iron Man an asshole! That's mean." Clint managed to spit out in-between laughing and getting smacked by Natasha.

Tony stood up before anybody could stop him and faked a heart wound, striding over to the curled up ball of red hair, pillow and blankets on the gurney. Natasha hissed when he went to poke the pile, so the billionaire hastily withdrew his hand and poked the pillow instead, meeting a pair of glassy eyes as Lucy peeked out of her hiding spot.

"You're an asshole." she stated defiantly, looking as threatening as a newborn rabbit.

"I must admit this is not what I imagined of your charming skills upon hearing of your numerous conquests, brother Stark!" Thor's laughter boomed like thunder and the effect on the room was instantaneous: the veil of grim expectation was temporarily cleared, and the room's inhabitants collectively exhaled, shaking off the accumulated tension.

Lucy chuckled too, albeit weakly.

"How are you feeling, kid?" Tony leaned on the wall next to the gurney, looking at her face with gentle concern. He thought she was pretty, a pretty young thing caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shudders ran through him when he thought about what might have happened to her if she wouldn't have managed to barricade herself in that closet.

"Been better," a sheepish smirk, "Am not a kid though. Thank God for that!" The last part of the phrase was muttered under her breath yet Tony heard it nonetheless, nodding in absolute agreement.

"It was a mess there, I didn't see it personally, only shitty footage from body cams. Must've been a nightmare." Tony continued, prompting the girl to open up and talk about what happened. Not only did they need the vital information about the beginning of the incident, Tony had his own experiences with being stuck in situation where one could do nothing but hope for the best and felt like he could relate to her. Contrary to popular belief, he was perfectly capable of being empathetic and kind. The asshole act was just an act - okay, not all of it, but most. He was gentle and respectful to the people he cared about, for one, and the billionaire couldn't resist puppy eyes. Lucy was a professional at making those.

"One moment I'm sitting and having a chat with a friend, next moment there's a smoke grenade flying in the door. I'm not even sure, I've only seen grenades in movies. I try running to the back of the room and he just stops and stares at me, I think I forgot to breathe with the way he looked. Crazy. Bamboozled. Like an animal. I swear he growled and lunged at me, tore my shirt apart, I was so confused I kicked him off and he fell... I think." She spoke, choking on her words, and everybody in the room instantly felt bad for the girl. There was no doubt she was somewhat shellshocked and traumatized from the almost-assault, and she wasn't even done speaking yet. "I didn't even think at that point, I just saw a door and made a run for it. Some people tried to grab me and I don't know how I fought them off. Last thing I saw before closing the door was, umm..." She stammered, obviously uncomfortable, and took a breath. Visibly composing herself, she added: "Like four people going at it. I don't know how to describe it, I haven't seen a porn even close to that." She gave a somewhat embarrassed laugh and Tony nodded, smiling compassionately. She continued: "So I locked the door and that's when I noticed I was feeling all weird. At first I thought that my body was trying to cope with what I just saw but then I remembered that the gas from the grenade was this vibrant purple color. So I hid in the deepest corner of the room with my trusty broomstick and tried to breathe as little as I could. I think it must've been ten minutes after that when your folks found me." As she spoke, more and more of her face showed and by the time she was done with her story, her head was resting on the pillow, facing the general direction of the group.

\---

Lucy's skin crawled when she felt superheroes looking at her, studying her. She felt vulnerable and needy, lust making her physically feel the weight of their stares on her exposed face. Despite two layers of clothing and an additional layer of blanket, Lucinda felt naked and spread-eagled.

Iron Man, sans armor, was standing five feet away from her face and she swore she could taste his cologne and sweat. Nervously licking her lips she futilely tried to chase away her thoughts, needing not more than to rub her face on every inch of his exposed skin, feel the rough stubble of his impeccably groomed beard on her own smooth cheek.

Only now Lucy understood how aching she was for touch. Her muscles spasmed and screamed, her skin tingled and her clothes felt uncomfortable and restricting, Tentatively, she reached out from under the blanket with a single foot, quickly toeing off one sock and then another, not being able to resist wiggling her toes in silent glee. Cool air felt wonderful on her exposed feet and that suffocating feeling disappeared from them together with the socks.

Tony noticed her ministrations and lightly chuckled. "Anything we can do to make you more comfortable, sweets?"

_Fuck me, fill me and use me until I can't walk and scream anymore?_ was what she wanted to say, but instead she choked out: "Water, please. My name is Lucy, by the way, but I'm sure you know that already."

Her introduction raised a chorus of "hi, lucy"'s and "nice-to-meet-you"s from the rest of the team. Tony walked over with a full glass of water and reflexively helped her to sit up; she accepted the touch without any thinking and froze when his hand touched the back of her neck.

"Oh," a squeak escaped her lips before she could stop it and Tony's hand froze on her neck. Lucy hung her head, mortified, and reached for the glass of water in his other hand, taking care not to move too much. It felt so good, so relieving to be touched, her muscles relaxed and her back went completely lax.

His palm wasn't big but it was hot, rough and calloused from all the machinery work he'd done, it screamed "man" and "skill", her core pulsed at the feel of those fingers on her neck, imagination supplementing and fueling her desire with the possibilities of those nimble, dextrous fingers touching, caressing elsewhere...

"I think trying to out-drink a fraternity and waking up wearing naught but a football jersey, on the other side of the city nonetheless, was definitely less embarrassing than this." She gulped down the water and attempted a face-palm by pressing the cool empty glass to her forehead.

"You sound like a fun person to hang out with!" Tony snickered, keeping his hand firmly planted on Lucy's nape. It made understanding speech that much harder, her attention focused on the handsome, fit, wonderfully smelling man.

Had she been her normal self, there would have been a waterfall of snark pouring from her at the frivolity of his gesture. Despite being generally cheerful, Lucy was cynical to the bone: why would a man like him ever want to look at someone like her? She was a nobody, not even nearly remarkable in any way for the people "up there" to pay attention to her. Lucinda O'Riley was just another brick in the wall on the large scale of the world. She wasn't exceptionally smart nor beautiful, didn't have any friends in high places.

For the moment, Lucy allowed herself to close her eyes and relax into the relief that the small touch of Tony's hand was giving her. Her senses sharp and dull at the same time, she didn't fully comprehend the rest of the team, minus Banner, left to chase the bad guys until the footsteps disappeared behind the door.

\---

"Lucy, you good?" Tony's voice broke through her heated haze.

"Mmm, never been better!" She answered absentmindedly, arching her back where his hand was still planted on her neck.

Tony quietly cursed under his breath and the touch became firmer, more holding, as she let out a not-quite-moan.

"Doc, what do we got here? She seems more out of it now!" Filled with worry, Tony called over to Bruce who was still fussing with the science equipment. Doctor gave a sharp look and scurried over, taking note of the girl's clumsy movements and half-lidded eyes.

"Tony..." Bruce stood squarely in front of the engineer, taking off his glasses and cleaning them in his shirt, making Stark worry just a tidbit more. Banner always did this when he was nervous and suspected others wouldn't like what he will say.

"What is it, Banner?" It came out harsher than Tony intended and it made Lucy flinch, then moan, when Tony shifted the grip from her nape to the juncture of her neck.

"She needs to ride it out, it's temporary. That bomb was doused with synthetic pheromones, it's not dangerous per se - only thing it's going to do is make people really, really aroused, to the point of discomfort. Unfortunately I've never encountered something like this and it's going to take me more than a couple of days to cook up a suppressant."

"And by ride it out, you mean what? Exactly?"

"The effects will subside approximately within 48 to 72 hours, Tony. She'll likely be in great pain during this time. We can't keep her sedated, this stuff burned right through our newest sedatives when SHIELD tried to calm down the most rambunctious of their agents. Twenty minutes and they were up and at it again, and I'm afraid to give her something stronger - look at her, she's barely over five feet, Tony!"

Tony exhaled in frustration. He didn't like feeling helpless, he, and Bruce - they were geniuses for fuck's sake! The genius engineer frantically scrambled his brain for any ideas. "Science Bro, how can we make it bearable for her?"

The scientist shuffled, obviously even more uncomfortable, and gave Tony a wry look. "She needs to get laid, Tony."

"She" was aware of that before you did your sciencey stuff, mister Hot Doctor!" Lucy snarked, "Now if you can't fix it, gimme my phone back so I can go hit up a buddy of mine and "ride it out"!" She even mustered enough strength to make quote marks with her hands, "just like the good doctor prescribed."

Both men were taken aback at the sudden outburst; not a moment ago Lucy was trying to rub herself all over Tony's hand and next she's trying to untangle herself from the blankets, determination written clear across her face.

"You can't consent in this state, missy!" Bruce finally unfroze from his shock and tried to keep Lucy from leaving the bed, only causing her to growl in a frustrated fashion.

"Yes, I can. I fully understand that I will probably make myself and someone very, very sore for the next couple of days. It's not like I have any other options!" Lucy threw her hands up in the air in frustration, taking care to keep as much distance as she could between her and the two men. She could feel her control slipping, she was getting impatient and angry. Lucy doubted Dr. Banner's alter ego would have appreciated her hate-fucking his owner? Master? _Ugh!_

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but it appeared as if Bruce had read his mind: "She needs human touch, doing it herself won't... Satisfy those urges."

"Exactly!" Lucy exclaimed." Now if you two smarty pants don't have a volunteer lined up, I'd be very grateful if I could get the damn phone back." Sarcasm poured out of her by the bucket.

Before Bruce could interject again, Tony have Lucy a thoughtful look and smirked: "I volunteer!"

\---

Lucy zoned out through the final moment of the conversation between Tony and Bruce, coming to her senses only when she felt her blanket completely removed from her proximity. The redhead lifted her head and met Tony's eyes staring right into her own, before he reached out and picked her up like she weighed nothing.

_Ay, fuck it!_ She was tired of fighting against her clouded mind, against her insatiable lust and aching core. Tony smelled and felt so, _so good_, she felt one of his hands slide under her ass when legs wrapped themselves around his middle, seemingly of their own volition, as her arms found their way around his neck, palms stroking along the hem of his grey t-shirt. Clumsily, she nosed his neck, finding his pulse point and keeping her lips there for just a moment - enough for the engineer to exhale a breath he's was holding in out of anticipation... Or was it trepidation?

"Jarvis, find us the fastest way to the quinjet, and don't forget to disable all cameras on the way, buddy." Tony hurriedly spoke into his fancy-looking smart watch.

Lucy hummed at the feeling of being carried and the vague change of scenery. "Where're we going, Tony-mm?"

"My tower." He said, "you'll like it there. It's safe and I have double-king bed and bathtub that can fit five Thors in it, and I have champagne..."

"You had me at "you" and "bed"!" she answered cheekily. "We plebs don't require expensive courtships prior to getting dirty!"

Lucy felt herself hoisted a little higher and did a small wiggle, just out of spite, but she didn't expect the juicy slap on her round ass that followed her squirming, when Tony's hand collided with it. An involuntary moan that was music to Tony's ears, earned her another one and she went docile and compliant against Tony's chest.

She allowed the engineer to peacefully carry her lax body through a set of doors, then another one and next thing she knew, she was being put down on a very comfortable chair with at least a dozen straps on it. Immediately noticing the lack of touch, attention, she whined deeply in her throat, attempting to stand up and making grabby hands at the engineer who was messing around the control module.

"I'll be right back baby girl, I'm setting up Jarvis to autopilot this thing." He provided immediate reassurance, missing the way she bit her lip at the nickname.

"Who's Jarvis?"

"Just a rather very intelligent system," Tony chuckled, pressing a big green button and making way back to Lucy. "He's an AI."

"Mmm, that's cool, you're really intelligent, did you know that?" Lucy told to the engineer, sounding small and naive, throwing him for a loop and reminding him, again, how young and _tiny_ was the girl.

He smirked, inwardly lighting up, like her praise was something he'd longed to hear for ages - maybe he did but didn't know it until the moment struck. His genius was a matter of public knowledge and discussion, not always in a positive light, hearing that from a human so open and so different from Tony's usual surroundings - it made him feel things he wasn't prepared to feel at that moment. Lifting the armrest, he got it out of the way and sat down, immediately receiving a lap full of soft, luscious curves and flaming red hair.

Her top was still damp from the water she used to cool off earlier and torn, showing a hint of lace on her black bra. Cheeks flushed, hair messy and upper button on the jeans broken, she looked good enough to eat, so when she leaned in, breath ghosting over his cheek, Tony wasted no time touching his dry lips to her moist bitten ones.

All thought left his head when Lucy gently nibbled on his bottom lip, seeking permission - he gave it to her and was rewarded with a hot, curious tongue probing, coaxing out his own. His hair was being tugged, gently steering the kiss to her wishes.

Tony felt a delicious pull in his abdomen, his cock was showing interest at the intensifying friction as Lucy shamelessly ground her hips against his. With her free hand, she grabbed one of Tony's and placed it on her ass, squeezing it for good measure: the engineer definitely got the hint as he immediately grabbed her by the hips, digging his fingertips into the ample round globes.

Lucy bit Tony's lip, whimpering into the kiss as she felt the seams of jeans rub against her slick folds and swollen clit, the friction feeling borderline painful from her prolonged arousal, forcing her sink that much lower on Tony's lap, moaning out loud when she felt his erection underneath his jeans. Her breathing hitched, heart skipping a beat, at Tony's clever and experienced lips as they consumed her own, sloppy, rushed and wet and _hot_.

If not for the short time it took the jet to fly them from SHIELD's base to his tower, Tony would have taken Lucy then and there, having to make do with the heated make-out session with the redhead grinding on his lap. He felt young again, like in his college days, when he'd get drunk off Southern Comfort in somebody's dorm and let a less experienced girl make herself at home on top of him with clumsy kisses tasting like cheap booze and weed and hemp rolling paper.

Just like back in the day, the girl's hands found their way under his shirt but their touch was much less timid than the girl's back then, Lucy's nails scraping gently along his pecs and sides, the pads of her thumbs experimentally going to softly brush and circle his nipples - and, okay, not many people knew how sensitive those were, Tony couldn't resist adding a relaxed sigh into the kiss. They really weren't that long into the flight, maybe ten minutes, but it felt like she was teasing him for hours if judging only by the uncomfortable strain in his trousers and the miniscule relief her weight on top of him provided. The engineer grabbed a hold of her hips with force and pushed them down, further down on his lap, swaying slowly and with precision. The moment he did that, Tony was rewarded with a gasp that was followed by a low moan that echoed throughout the aircraft: Lucy threw her head back, unabashed, staring at him with a crooked smirk and half-lidded eyes and - fuck, _boy_ was he gone.

"I'm happy I volunteered!" Tony said, awed.

"Least I could do for your troubles is to give you a good time." And there was that again, Lucy came back from being a succubus-sex-goddess to a regular human girl. Tony found that endearing, how quickly she could clear her mind and care about another. It made her all that more desirable in Tony's eyes.

"Don't you worry about me, babygirl," the engineer answered easily, he meant it. He took time to excel at every task he picked up and this would be no different - she would only leave his tower properly sated and wobbly-legged.

Lucy bit her lip as she stared at the man in front of her. Her chest heaved and hips shifted minutely betraying her aroused state while her eyes remained clear. "I like it when you call me that," she finally said, much to Tony's curiosity. As he was about to open his mouth to clarify, he noticed her blush deepen and she quickly shut him up with another searing kiss and a twist of her hips. The words on his tongue became nothing but a garbled groan when Lucy attacked him even more vigorously than before, one of her dainty hands messing and tugging on his hair, the other hand's fingertips skimming along the waist of his pants.

One of the screens flicked and something quietly beeped in the background. The sounds went unnoticed by Lucy who was too preoccupied with getting Tony out of his pants - but the genius did notice and so he took her wrists and secured them behind her back with a hand of his own. By no means being a large man, one of his hands easily covered both of Lucy's wrists, not that she struggled _for real_, she just whined deep and high in her throat while her hips continued the slow grind against the bulge in Tony's trousers.

The noise she made, made Tony himself shudder but he used his CEO voice: "Just a few more minutes, we're almost there," as he peppered small kisses along her jawline and up, up on her face.

"I hate being a good girl." Lucy grumbled and for Tony, it _clicked_. He read about that kind of stuff but never encountered it in real life - and he would be lying to himself if he would say it didn't appeal to him. Having a precious, cute person all to himself, to spoil and to _wreck_ to his liking, it struck a chord somewhere deep and sensitive in the genius. The responsibility in this situation was a pleasant addition, mainly because of the control - Tony loved and needed being in control. For the umpeteenth time today, he felt lucky - whatever karmic deed he had done preciously, he was unsure, but he was grateful for the opportunity to receive such a gift. The gift of trust and submission was a treasure.

Slow beeping and the loss of altitude took the engineer out of his thoughts, and when the aircraft parked itself on the Avengers' tower landing pad, he was already at the door, Lucy in his arms. He didn't bother buttoning his pants as he was eager to lose them, not as much as Lucy was though - she felt as hot and liquid as lava, laying fully relaxed across his arms, her moist hot breath causing goosebumps to appear on his neck.

The cool, white hallways were a blur and so was the elevator ride - Lucy only peeked open an eye when she landed on something soft and fluffy, enveloping her in the smell of _Tony_.

Opening her eyes fully, she found herself on the white sheets of his bedroom, a large, dimly lit half-circular room with an extremely large bed being the centerfold of it; it's owner chucking his shirt somewhere in the far corner of it and hastily shimmying off his pants and socks.

She took a moment to admire his lean, tan form, his skin being the color of almost caramel. Heaving a sigh, the redhead wondered how he tasted, letting her eyes take in his disheveled hair and shiny brown eyes, pupils blown so wide they were nearly black. In a flash, he crawled to her, settling between her legs and over her, catching her hazel eyes with his dark ones. She shook slightly, overcome with need at last, so much, she couldn't form a coherent thought if she'd tried to speak words; she spoke with her body instead, running her hands atop him, wherever she could reach, pulling him on top of her.

Their lips met in an another sloppy, wet kiss and this time, Tony didn't hold back his own hands from exploring: he started with her exposed skin, callouses providing enough friction for her to gasp and arch under his touch. Suddenly impatient, he tore off what was left of her shirt and his mouth hungrily joined his hands in the journey of her body, provoking more lustful noises to fall from her lips. Tony peeled off a cup of her lacy bra and hungry sucked in the hardened nub, suckling and twirling the nub with his tongue and teeth. The high pitched whine that left her mouth made his dick jump in his boxers, the fabric no doubt stained with pre-cum.

Lucy couldn't do much more but hold onto his shoulders like she was drowning, and in a way, she was; sensations from his sweat-slick skin on hers, his hot mouth on her breast and his thigh just _this_ much away from her core, it drove her mad, head-first into a world of sensations she never wanted to leave. In the back of her head, a dim thought of all the embarrassing noises that left her mouth appeared but she couldn't bring herself to care. She wanted more.

"Fuck, please," Lucy whined, desperate.

Tony growled, releasing a rosy nipple from his mouth but never ceasing to knead her puffy breasts that spilled out of her bra, "Please what?"

"Oh, fu-uck..." Lucy spoke the only coherent words that she could form, arching and twisting into his touch. "Please, touch me, make me come!"

Tony considered himself to be a gentleman, so he readily busied himself with getting Lucy's jeans down her legs. Once they were down, he saw the wet, dark patch on the crotch of her panties and the moisture _on her thighs_ \- he couldn't hold back anymore. Ungracefully plopping belly down on the bed and throwing her legs over his shoulders in a rush, he inhaled the aroma of her arousal and moaned. She smelled musky, sweet and tangy - he couldn't resist that even if he'd wanted to, hastily nosing the wetness of her slit and delighting in the strained moans, Tony licked it - tongue out, right over her panties. A loud, obscene moan left her lips and her hips moved, seeking the his touch once again.

Tony extended a finger to move aside the gusset of her underwear, uncovering a swollen set of outer lips and a tiny clit peeking out the upside, looking as inviting as ever. With the vigour of a man starved, he descended his assault on her pussy, taking each outer lip and sucking the juices off it in turns, his tongue probing around the entrance and between the thin, silky inner lips.

A tugging hand in his hair took him out of the trance for a brief moment and he was able to discern a few distinctive words that made him dive back, focusing on the small bundle of nerves that brought out the most alluring, sinful sounds out of her mouth: "Please, please, oh Tony feels so good, make me come," Lucy writhed and moaned beneath him.

It didn't take long for her first orgasm to hit; the redhead's legs shook and her back arched at a near impossible angle as the engineer rapidly licked her through her first release; the second one following closely, much to the surprise of the engineer. She started squirming shortly thereafter, indicating her oversensitive clit needed a break, so the engineer propped himself up on an elbow, freeing up a hand to play with her soaking wet entrance instead. A thumb found it's way around it a few times before taking an experimental dip inside, finding nothing but a slick, welcoming heat. Tony briefly closed his eyes and hummed, imagination running wild at the thought of being buried in Lucy balls deep.

She must have been having similar thoughts as she restlessly shifted her hips in a vain attempt to fuck herself on his thumb. Her pussy flexed and rippled around it, seeking more friction and _fullness_. Tony, ignoring her disheartened whine, pulled out his thumb only to replace it with two and then three of his fingers, the appendages meeting barely any resistance due to the fluid all but gushing out of her core. The engineer revelled in this moment, all worries and hurts forgotten as the tiny minx _took_ her pleasure from him without shame or trepidation. The arch of her hips and the smooth glide of her inner walls along her center provided to be a stimulating experience for the man for he found himself restlessly rubbing against the mattress, the hardness of his member borderline painful.

With a sudden yelp his hand was absolutely drenched in fluid and he couldn't hold back a lewd moan of pleasure at the view and the feeling of the walls convulsing around his fingers. Waiting for Lucy to catch a breath, Tony gently withdrew his fingers from her propping himself up and over her. His arousal had gotten unbearable and the man couldn't resist the need to be buried in her anymore. Looking into her lust-tinted eyes, he opened his mouth to ask the important questions but was pleasantly surprised when a coarse voice said: "I'm clean and on birth control, now fuck me," he couldn't miss the demanding impatient notes in her voice.

In one swift motion, he pushed himself up and quickly discarded his boxers, the offending piece of fabric flying somewhere toward the ceiling; none of the sweaty, eager people in the room paid it any notice. Lucy gripped Tony's shoulders once more to pull him into a bruising, desperate kiss upon feeling his blunt, leaking member nosing at her core. Her hips stuttered and he sunk in slowly. The engineer savored the first moment, the newness of her pussy on his cock, the feel of her heated walls rubbing along his shaft. A sound between a growl and a wail came from the man when he bottomed out.

"Fuck, Daddy, you're so thick, stretching me out!" Lucy was truly out of it and the mind-to-speech filter appeared to have gone for a vacation - not that Tony minded. That one word caused his dick to pulsate with the need to _claim_ her, inside and out.

Tony moved, slow languid strokes at first, each movement punctuated by a sound groan right into their kiss, but as the time went on and Lucy's noises grew louder and higher, the man picked up his pace, taking care to brush along that special spot that made her clench and whine. She was close, teetering on the edge, he could feel that; the engineer just wanted it to last for he was afraid her orgasm, the clench of her pussy would milk him dry in an instant.

Lucy, seeing white behind her eyelids, hastily met his movements with thrusts of her own, raising her hips until he relented and slid a hand under the cheek of her ass, keeping her leg hooked in place over his hip, causing his own sounds to become that much louder due to increased depth of the angle. In a spur of the moment, he opened his to see the pale girl under him a sweaty mess, but no less beautiful because of that. Her eyes were squeezed shut, little crease between her eyebrows betraying her focus on chasing her release was as strong as his attempt on postponing his own; in that moment, he felt the inexplicable telltale tightening of his balls and knew he could hold back no longer.

"Come for me, baby girl, come on daddy's cock," he demanded and was immediately rewarded with downright _screaming_. As he predicted, the walls of her pussy gripped him so tightly, he could feel his own orgasm ripped out of him, it hit him like a ton of bricks and his hips twitching once, twice, Tony collapsed on top of Lucy, careful to not put too much of his weight on the small girl under him.

Lucy felt naught but bliss when she felt herself flooded on the inside, unconsciously contracting muscles of her pussy to milk every last drop of Tony's cum for herself. She was grateful he stayed inside of her, twitching for a moment - and for the sudden clarity it brought when he released himself inside of her.

"Hands down, your dick is the bomb," Lucy said, surprising herself with the clarity of her thoughts and her voice.

"Uhh..." was the eloquent response from Tony.

She turned her head to see the genius blinking (sleepily?) at her, a split second before she was unceremoniously scooped in his arms, sweaty, sticky bodies continuing their union in a post-coital cuddle. She opened her mouth but the words escaped her mind before she could say them. In a moment, she was sound asleep.


	2. Love brings you pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve/Lucy/Bucky with dom!Steve and a good old spitroast. 
> 
> If someone would be willing to beta-read this dumpster fire of a story, I'd be forever in your debt.

It was still dark in the room when Lucy decided to open her eyes - against better judgement, because her head was pounding something crazy and the wet spot between her legs had her frantically trying to piece together yesterday's happenstances when she awoke. _OK, so I've gotten gassed with some crazy chemical, out of mind my mind horny and Iron Man offered to take care of that little problem for me. I'm pretty sure I made a clown out of myself in front of his... buddies, and almost sexually assaulted the Hulk. Why am I sober right now?_ Lucy's train of thought went something like this, brain feeling groggy and sluggish. She didn't need to pat the space next to her to know that her recent bedmate had disappeared, not that she complained - she felt like she needed a five-hour shower to wash off all the fluids from her sexcapades. Getting out of bed proved to be quite the feat, with a head full of lead that spun like the worst hangover of her life when she finally felt her bare feet touch the hardwood floors as fancy as the rest of her surroundings. Only the view outside the large glass window was convincing enough to make the redhead believe past day wasn't some morbid, hallucinogenic dream.

"Good morning, miss O'Riley. How may I be of assistance?" A robotic voice broke the silence.

Lucy jumped but calmed quickly, vaguely remembering something about an AI that Stark told her about while she was dry-humping him in the plane. Oh, joy.

"Um, hi. Where's the bathroom?" The girl decided speaking to the ceiling wasn't the weirdest thing to happen to her recently but it still made the list. She had the heebie-jeebies from thinking that someone might have seen her and Stark having sex -_ "don't think about it, bad Lucy!"_

A pathway of white LED lights alongside the wall sprung to life, following them she noticed a door at the end of the path.

"Towels and toiletries should be in the utmost top drawers to your left. I have notified Mr. Stark of your awakening and he will be here shortly." The disembodied voice said and the LED lights died.

Despite the uncomfortable feelings of _what the actual fuck_, Lucy entered that door - and woah, surely his tub could fit five thors and then some. The redhead opted for a shower behind the matte glass wall instead, blasting herself into consciousness with icy water. She tried to not think what was going to be done to her, as the reality of the situation set in - she was as curious as the Black Widow as to why did the gas didn't turn her into a crazy fornicator like it did the others... Lucy just wasn't sure about the lengths that secret organizations were willing to go to extract such information from her body.

No matter how amazing the genius-engineer was at sex, Lucy didn't want to end up vivisected on his and that doctor's table. Even though the doctor himself was hot, too.

Lucy's hands stilled in her hair and with a mumbled "not again", she pressed her thighs firmly together as the world around her took on an already familiar warm feeling. She quickly rinsed out her hair and wrapped both her tresses and her body in a warm, fluffy towel, being mindful of the time she spent in the shower. The voics-in-the-ceiling said Tony would be coming back and she didn't want to make him wait too long, she decided to be a polite guest for all that's happened wasn't his fault.

The redhead exhaled a sigh, feeling conflicted. Who was to blame? Living in New York was dangerous. There were Aliens descending from the sky, villains attacking this neighborhood or another just about every second week or so, evil mutants with powers way, way beyond a normal human's comprehension and the muggings. The latter being of the casual variety but no less dangerous. Despite being a big city girl, Lucy sometimes found herself missing the hot, humid, dusty streets of her hometown in Alabama.

During her high school years she'd watch the telly, fangirling over superheroes that fought for humanity on these very streets of New York but that idyllic dream was long gone. New York became her new home shortly after graduation by coincidence. She'd went to the bus station and hopped on the closest bus, naught but a small suitcase and a few thousand dollars of saved cash with her. Lucy didn't have the best relationship with her family - there was no funny business, they were simply too different, so she chose to be the bigger person and let her baby sister be the O'Riley family pride and jewel.

New York was grey, so very dull despite being a busy city that was always on the move. It was difficult for Lucy to adjust after spending her childhood in the bright green and blue state of cotton, watching orange and sunsets in her father's boat, going out to Tennessee and looking to spot the biggest gator in the bayou. Lucy found a job in a bakery soon after moving and after some time of struggling to get the ends meet, her family extented a pardon and helped her to find a decent place in a nice neighborhood, taking care of the rent and utilities. Never being religious herself, Lucy however found a new appreciation for her mother's dedication to Jesus and gritted teeth all through the monthly lectures on following the God's Word, it were "biblical values" after all that aided her family in helping their wayward daughter in her worldly journeys. Not being the ignorant, spoiled teenager like many of her peers back home, Lucy honestly was grateful. She felt lucky even, comparing herself to the many fellow youngsters. The Big Apple was truly a city of great diversity.

The redhead wrung out the last remnants of moisture out of her hair, idly wondering what her mama would say at the circumstances surrounding her stay in the tower. _Ma would probably call in a pastor to perform an exorcism and lecture me on the dangers of the sin of lust_, Lucy snickered to herself, exiting the bathroom.

Tony Stark had made himself comfortable on the messy sheets, looking absolutely delicious wearing a pair of black boxers and a matching tee. The engineer's hair was moist and messy and upon closer inspection, his feet were pruny, skin pink and flushed. Not paying any attention to the world around him, Stark enthusiastically poked away on his sleek silver tablet. Leaning against the doorway, eyes wide, the girl scanned the man in the large bed, for some reason desperately trying to memorize this picture, to embed it deep in her mind for all the lonely, grey nights the future will bring. Something about the dimly lit room and the smell of them and the comfortable, relaxed person in front of her triggered a melancholic note deep in her chest.

There was the oddness of the circumstances, she guessed, that made her feel so _odd_. She got to be a part of that world up there, if even for a brief second and as a bed warmer. Stark will probably forget about this, about her as soon as she's out of the tower... Maybe it will turn into a funny story he will share at their superhero mingling parties - _do they have them? I bet they do..._ Shaking herself from the glum thoughts, she walked up to him on quiet feet.

"Hey, kiddo" The engineer said, not lifting his eyes from his tablet. If she'd have to guess, Lucy would say that he's _embarrassed_ and _blushing_ from the way he pointedly _not_ looking at her. Not one to judge, she pretended not to notice.

"What's up?"

"I brought your purse." Tony visibly cringed which made the girl frown.

"Umm, thanks." Making her way over to the side of the bed which housed her orange monstrosity of a purse, she was delighted to see it's contents intact. It was really not the worst day to have gotten her clothes shredded. Her date had seemed nice enough over the phone, in person being a whole different matter, so she'd tossed a change of clothes in her purse along with pepper spray upon leaving her apartment. A girl can never know whether she's gonna get laid or assaulted.

Lucy spared a glance at the preoccupied genius and discarded her towel, snatching a pair of underwear, a bra, and hastily flying into the garments. His avoidant attitude did no good to her mentally and the redhead felt more exposed than whole she was under him and begging for his dick.

"Do you go out to meet guys with spare clothes in your bag that often?" Came a demanding question from Stark, causing Lucy to have a spit-take in the middle of clasping her bra.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Immediately switching to mode: pissed off, Lucy returned the demanding tone back. The audacity of this, she couldn't believe her ears - that is, until Tony cringed and face-palmed, hastily getting up and raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I didn't mean it like that! Fuck!" He grabbed his head, carefully avoiding her eyes. Something's fishy here, Lucy decided, waiting for him to continue, standing firm and nearly naked. "Look, my... Teammates have been on my back, lecturing me how unethical it was for me to take advantage of you when your judgement was very obviously impaired. And I agree, it was a stupid thing. I did a stupid thing." The genius rambled, startling Lucy out of her breath she was taking to get ready to rant about gender equality and the slut-shaming comment. She wasn't prepared, however, for the genius to feel bad.

"Look, stop, Mr. Stark." Timidly, Lucy removed his hands from his face. A bit awkwardly, she stood in front of him, holding his warm wrists in her small hands. "You wouldn't have gotten close to me if I didn't want this. I would have found another broomstick and poked you with it until you would be all shades of blue." Humor was a coping mechanism for her. She was surprised of the genius' train of thought, and much more of his teammates - not that she knew them, like humans - to her, they were just pictures on the covers of magazines.

Tony's shoulders sagged, nonetheless, his sigh sounded relieved. The engineer looked like he was fighting a battle within himself, Lucy, never having had appreciation for words, pulled him into a what she hoped was a friendly and supportive hug and found her own relief when he hugged her back. The height difference wasn't big, he was not a tall man by any chance, so he rested his head on her shoulder, hiding the face in the curtains of her damp hair._ Superheroes need more hugs_, Lucy's thoughts ventured back to the other inhabitants of this tower.

"How's your feelin'?" Came a muffled, coarse voice from somewhere around her nape.

"Definitely much better. I think the stuff is still in my blood but I'm not... Crawling the walls at the moment." Lucy answered quietly.

"Mmm..." Was it just her or did the genius sound like a relaxed housecat? "Bruce wants to get another blood sample and that brain scan done. If I could, I would keep you here with me for another few hours but the Jolly Green can be very persistent." Nope, she wasn't imagining it. The hug had ventured straight out of the friendly territory into "intimate" with Stark all but rubbing his cheek on her neck. She'd be lying if it didn't flatter her, no matter how confused Tony's affection made her. She'd made a noise between a purr and a huff when he withdrew and attempted to hide her smile, however unsuccessfully, at the blatant salacious once-over the man gave her.

The hand that reached for her dress was promptly smacked away and much to her surprise, she was given the very shirt that was on his persona a moment ago - luckily, with her tiny statute, it went halfway down her thighs, giving her some pretense of modesty. In a split second, she was led to the elevators by a shirtless superhero, idly musing by herself. _"If everyone had bodies like that, they'd be walking around shirtless and pant-less too. I bet it's just a naturist fest down here all the time. So-o not complaining about this."_

Iron Man's armor did no justice to his ass, really.

\---

"Everyone's in the kitchen. You hungry? We can fix you up with something after Banner gets his blood."

"What other place to be besides the kitchen, at 2 A.M.?" Lucy snarked, spying the time on a small screen in the elevator. Stark's residence had a disgusting amount of screens which made the redhead wonder how anyone in the tower hasn't stuck with wearing an inch thick glasses. The bathroom mirror was an interactive screen, for fuck's sake! One could do their make-up and watch a tutorial - _simoultaneously_! Putting aside the overall circumstances, Lucy took her time marvelling at the technical luxuries in the tower. She must've looked like a kid in a zoo with her eyes as big as quarters, staring at her surroundings in awe. Her family was pretty well-off but even they couldn't afford such luxury and her little apartment was bohemian and hippy-esque compared to the soft whites and shiny chromes of the humble Stark abode.

The kitchen was large enough to accommodate all of the team - which appeared to be present in full. Hawkeye chewed on a sandwich while, by the sound of it, watching kitten videos, with Loki and Thor peeking over his shoulder and brandishing a pile of sandwiches each on their own. The Black Widow was nursing a cup of coffee and The Scarlet Witch did the same, both appearing to be zonked out, blankly staring at the wall. Captain America was - ...

"Ugh-uuh..." Lucy wasn't sure what the sound was that just had left her mouth, neither was she sure if her eyes have been betraying her for the last five seconds. In the back of her mind, her mother's soft but stern voice resonated, "_honey, staring is rude!",_ useless as it was in this moment, as nobody could pay her enough or convince to tear her eyes away from the two men ...

"Capsicle, RoboCop! What did I tell you about defiling _my_ kitchen! People _eat_ here!" Tony's indignant screech ungracefully ripped magic of the moment away and the two supersoldiers pulled their faces apart with the most annoyed, frustrated look on their faces. Lucy didn't have to strain her eyes to see both of them were quite... Excited for each other, to say no more. What made the experience even more surreal for the redhead was the others' complete disregard for the two man-candies humping each other almost in front of their faces.

"What even is this world anymore, good Lord and the Holy Spirit..." Lucy mumbled, hiding her face in her palms.

Two supersoldiers realized at once that a stranger was amidst them and quickly put a foot of space between themselves only to realize they had raging hard-ons in full display.

Tony wouldn't be himself if he didn't make the situation any worse than it was, and he did exactly that, paying no mind to his flushed and flustered teammates, he all but forced the hands from Lucy's face to meet her wide, bleary eyes with his sparkling brown ones. "You're awake and doing alright." He said, Lucy repeatedly banging her forehead against his collarbone. She was muttering unintelligible curse words and shaking her head as if trying to get rid of a persistent mosquito stuck in her hair.

"We're really sorry." Normally, Captain America, the puppy-eyed boyscout, took the lead, trying to diffuse this uncomfortable situation. Snickers were heard across the kitchen, everyone was keeping their head down and trying to hide their laughter, much to Tony's big eyes and threatening murder face.

"No," Lucy startled everybody with her tone of voice: it was firm and just a teeny-tiny bit hysterical. A _really_ tiny bit. Natasha subtly double-checked all 7 weapons she was currently carrying under her Shawn the Sheep pajamas. "No, I just can't. You know what?!" The screech of the barstool that was dragged out by the girl rivaled the tone of her voice. "I'm just going to try digesting all of this," she gestured wildly around herself, "tomorrow. Or whenever I stop being a lab rat and get home." She didn't miss the frowns that etched on everybody's faces but she was way too far gone to care. "Captain, Metal Hand Guy, I believe you just won me fifty bucks from my friend." The men in question, sputtering, made quite indignant noises, one for the lame nickname, the other out of confusion.

Turning towards a cackling Tony, she expectantly raised an eyebrow: "I was led to believe there would be food.", finding the engineer slowly falling down the wall and clutching his stomach and wiping the tears of laughter from his face. Deeming the case hopeless, she turned towards the other superheroes and neatly folded her hands on the countertop, the corners of her mouth twitching. Tony's laughter was truly infectious and he snorted when he laughed anyway, which was hella funny in itself.

The sound of a sliding dish, somewhat dimmed by Tony's hiccups, let Lucy observe the contents of the dish and their owner, who was snickering himself. Clint Barton shared his sandwiches with her! Wasting no time, she tore a bite out of one only to scrunch her face in disgust a moment after, "Ew, mayo and pickles? What kind of pervert are you?!" which provoked a full belly laugh out of the resident Archer.

"The best kind, sweetheart." But he took the plate back nonetheless and promptly got up and made his way to fix Lucy up with some actual food, despite the displeased grunts from the Asgardians, having left them without their precious funny YouTube videos. "You look like you could use some real food, we've got some leftover Goulash soup that Wanda made yesterday and... Whatever this bread and peanut butter looking thing is."

"I'll have the Goulash, I'm allergic to peanuts. What's a Goulash anyway?" Lucy's query was met with a shrug and a beep from the microwave.

She vehemently avoided looking at the soldiers, both being clad only in loose baseball shorts, rock solid and on open display. Lucy struggled not to drool, and reasoned with herself that a) the room was hot, and b) it was their home and they should feel free to be themselves. Their ripped, powerful, _good enough to eat selves..._ Groan. It was a consolation for her to feel their own awkwardness, however brief, and strangely enough it was Barnes who was uncomfortable, Captain looking as comfortable as ever. Like he just wasn't caught having homosexual relations by a stranger.

Not that she minded - Lucy wasn't like her family down south and welcomed all aspects of love. It's just that it was incredibly hard to resist staring and possibly asking to join them with the concoction of drugs circling in her bloodstream, so she relented to silently drooling over them in her own head. She was willing to bet her pinky toe that their pictures were under the description tab for 'eye candy' in Urban Dictionary.

A steaming hot bowl of deep red... whatever was placed in front of her, it actually smelled good. Lucy ate slowly, mindful of the way everyone was watching her from the corners of their eyes, watching them in turn. She remembered Tony saying something about a blood test before eating, so she picked up her pace, hoping the food isn't going to be taken away and replaced with a needle in her arm. And the whole "hot doctor" debacle, yeah, how could she forget that.

"... treat you good?" A rough, deep voice startled her out of her embarrassment. James Barns was intently looking at her, eyebrow raised.

"Sure?"

The Winter Soldier chuckled and that throaty, growly noise made Lucy feel ten kinds of uncomfortable. Suddenly she was aware her clothing consisted only of flimsy underwear and a shirt that was not hers, shivers went down her spine, erupting an array of goosebumps on her legs. Cold on the outside and burning on the inside, conflicting sensations forced Lucy to close her eyes and vent a deep sigh. It was the chemical in her body taking over the rational part of her brain again. Soon she will be squirming in her seat and desperately trying to avoid looking at the beautiful people around her, avoiding in vain.

"We don't need to rush with the blood specimens, ay?" Barton must've noticed her state, his innocent quip started to sound like an invitation to help herself to his dick.

"Yeah, I don't think so. The poor doll looks like she's about to lose it", Captain Rogers said. It took every ounce of willpower for Lucy not to indignantly yell back "Well you're not fucking helping! Put some pants on!". She was sure they could read it on her face anyway, she'd never was good at hiding her distress. She just quietly fumed instead, not even bothering to make small talk as the kitchen's inhabitants slowly trickled away one by one until only her, Tony and the two supersoldiers remained.

"I need to go help Banner in the lab," Tony said, after exchanging pointed glances with the Captain, glances that Lucy pretended to not notice.

She just quietly mumbled, "Traitor", to the genius' retreating back before averting her gaze back down to her hands folded on the countertop.

"If you need anything, just ask Capsicle or his butt buddy. Don't be shy," and with a wink, he was gone behind stainless steel elevator doors.

"He's an asshole," Lucy mumbled after a brief moment of awkward silence.

"He's nice fella, really," Rogers objected.

"What makes you think so?"

"Well," Captain looked like true American Glory™, all smouldering looks and jaw firm. Lucy gulped and that _bastard_ had the audacity to grin... Looking a like a confused golden retriever puppy, "He invited a lady in acute distress to stay in his home and help herself to _whatever_ she needs to feel better." He said, sounding earnest.

It didn't sound fake, the way Rogers emphasised the word everything sounded more like every_one_... Or maybe those were just the haywire hormones talking, she didn't know for sure - until Barnes' smirk said otherwise.

"We're also happy to help," he said, coming around behind her back and subtly (maybe he thought it was subtle, because Lucy just about _screamed_) running a hand over her back. "So, we're dying to know... Who's your favorite superhero?"

Rogers' shit eating grin only solidified Lucy's theory that she was ungracefully passed onto the supersoldier duo for the next round. She started to feel _hot_ a while ago, and by her estimate, in another half an hour she'd be ready to fuck the whole superhero team, not just Tony and Steve. Steve and Bucky. Tony on her and Steve on Bucky.

She did notice during her entrance that Bucky appeared to be the dominant kind. He devoured Steve, firmly holding him in place and guiding the leisurely grind of their hips...

Fuck.

Deviously, Lucy slowly moved so more of Bucky's hand would press against her back. Now he had _large_ hands, he ran hot, she could feel warmth radiating off him in waves. Flutters in her stomach, previously unnoticed, quickened, coiling themselves into a tugging sense of need below her navel. She wanted to _feel_ much more than just a palm of the hand on her back and a smug grin across the room. Steve's grin was almost predatory when she raised her eyes to meet his, it was a new, unseen look on the Captain; he always appeared so chaste and righteous in public, Lucy wondered, admittedly, not for the first time: what kind of debauchery would force the innocence away from his face.

"You know, I don't think I've made up my mind yet," she answered, studying the man in front of her. Steve quietly tsk-ed and rested his broad forearms on the surface, coming to her eye-level. "I think you could help me decide?"

Meanwhile, Bucky's metal arm joined his flesh appendage on Lucy's back, arduously traveling up, up, to find a resting place on her shoulders. A rock-hard chest pressed against her and the smell of iron and machine oil surrounded her senses. She felt trepidation as she shivered in his arms; the contrast between his natural heat and the stark cold of his prosthetic arm naturally made her mind wonder about the alternating sensations that his arms would bring to her sensitive spots. With unexpected humor, she'd admitted to herself she might develop a fetish after this encounter.

Bucky's flesh hand slowly traveled over her chest, a moan leaving her lips when he brushed over a hyper-sensitive nipple. She felt pleasure shoot straight through her, deeper into her core, paying no mind to her clothes and her bra. Meeting no resistance, the Sargent wrapped a muscular arm around her middle; she was turned around and placed on the counter without being able to utter even a squeak, acutely feeling Steve's eyes on her back. They bore straight through her, she needn't have to see his face to feel his appreciation and arousal at the situation unfolding in front of his eyes.

"What do you think, punk? Should we help the little lady with such an important decision?" The impish grin that Barnes wore, must have broken a lot of girls hearts back in the day. He gazed down at Lucy, the glint of desire unmistakable in his orbs.

"We should earn a place in her good books, jerk. We're the good guys and she's a cute little thing." _He is using his Captain voice!_ Despite the absurdity of everything, Lucy let out her inner fangirl squeal. Taking note at the girl's perking up, Barnes gently took a hold of her chin, forcing her to look up, straight into his eyes. A crimson blush stained her cheeks and she looked equal parts embarrassed and turned on, making her already large eyes appear glassy and frightened.

"Just say the word and we'll stop," Bucky murmured, tracing Lucy's moist lips with his thumb. For the second time that day, she was abruptly picked up, leaving her no choice but to wrap her thighs around the large brunette's waist, only to be let go of a moment after - straight into the Captain's waiting arms. How he managed to move this quietly was beyond her, she was too preoccupied with the feel of his unbelievably large pectorals under her palms. In any other given moment, she would have made fun of him for having bigger tits than her but at that time, she ached to leave scratch marks from her nails on his chest, bruises on the milky white neck and mess up his perfect boyscout hair.

Steve sat down on the living room couch, powerful legs spread, with the redhead sitting on his lap, facing a _stalking_ Barnes. Her legs were spread over his own in a gentle, but firm motion, leaving the damp patch on her panties to be exposed to anyone who will walk in the room - and Bucky. The Sargent openly eyed the wet spot on her frilly blue panties, as if devoid of shame: licking his lips, inhaling a loud breath, dropping onto his knees. The Captain's bulge under her ass continued to grow: Lucy only now became aware what she was sitting on and quietly gasped at what felt to be at least a baseball bat in the blonde's pants. _Superserum, amirite?_

As if ignoring the girl between them, Steve and Bucky's lips met in a feral, heated kiss; the men obviously were eager to continue what she had interrupted, and she didn't find it in her to complain about feeling left out: being deliciously sandwiched between two ridiculously muscular man bodies wreaked havoc on her speech apparatus, the best of her capability being an array of small sighs, that were interrupted, too, by a metal hand that firmly tufted her face to be devoured by the Captain.

He kissed _hungrily_. Only partially aware of her shirt being ripped in half, Lucy relented to the blonde's kiss, allowing his probing tongue to enter and explore her mouth. Steve swallowed moan after moan, begging for more with his hands joining Bucky's in teasing, kneading and gripping the flesh of her thighs, stomach, breasts. A whine, immediately kissed away, was furthered by more noises that grew in volume as both men steadily circled their hands closer and closer towards her core.

Steve withdrew from her lips to be replaced by Bucky suckling and _biting_ on the tender flesh of her neck, no doubt leaving love bites wherever his mouth touched her heated skin. Lucy *felt* the purple and black bruises forming on her flesh, leaving a drawn out, delicious pull in their wake.

"Will you let us take care of you, sweetheart?" Steve's voice sounded _fucked_ and they'd just only gotten started. Lucy rapidly bobbed her head, turning it to expose more of the pale, sensitive skin of her neck.

"Use your words," the Captain voice made a returning appearance causing redhead's panties to moisten more. Both men didn't fail to notice the small detail, Bucky's grip hardening on her by a margin.

"Yes..." Lucy managed to choke out in-between blissful moans.

"Sargent, humour me... That is no way to speak to your superior," Steve's voice dropped another octave, steadily going into "growl" category, causing the girl in his arms to violently shudder in need.

"I think she needs discipline, Captain," Barnes added his five cents, sounding smug. He had since ceased the assault on Lucy's delicate skin and sat back on his heels to admire his handiwork: an array of blues and purples littered the arch of her neck, the dips and raises of her collarbones.

Not minding the keen that left Lucy's lips, she was promptly repositioned across Steve's lap. Her ample bottom in the air - she only had a split second to catch her breath - a loud smack resonated across the room. A shocked, startled noise turned into a squeaky groan: it dawned on her, Captain America had put her over his knee and was spanking her.

He was an expert, it seemed. With every little squirm, every fiber of her wanton being she felt the controlled strength behind his blows; the firm, skin-reddening pressure was followed by a gentle, tender caress, almost like a lover's touch. His fingers didn't shy away from running over her damp, clothed center as much as he himself didn't shy from showing her: in this moment, he _owned_ her. She lost count between the harsh and the gentle touch, sobbing when his flesh met hers in a particularly sharp strike.

Aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks, she attempted to hide away under his arm. A pleasantly cool metal hand rested on the small of her back, venturing over her crimson ass cheeks - that earned Bucky a relaxed moan. Suddenly gentle, Steve maneuvered her to the floor making her catch herself on her knees at the latest moment.

Lucy felt like she was floating. The couch made a nice enough cloud, she supposed, and Steve could as well be the sun: he was hot, scalding to touch, beaming down at her with a proud smile, murmuring some lovey-dovey nonsense with a kind of worried look in his eyes. She could never attempt to dissappoint him, ever, she would rather shoot herself in the leg.

She bit her lip as she pondered her further actions: his dick, as intimidating as it was, stood at full attention in front of her face and she still hasn't gotten her release. Despite her out-of-body experience the throbbing need in her core only worsened, putting her mind's next target solely on chasing her release. Some may have called her selfish... But some had told her to take advantage of the possibilities presented to satisfy her needs.

Decision made and unaware of the worried stares the two soldiers were giving her, Lucy, clumsy yet determined, reached over to the waistband of Steve's boxers, daring to peek upwards, shyly. Invitingly spreading his legs, he smiled at her and gave a minute nod to Bucky behind her.

Barnes was like the gauze to her wound; a gentle reminder that for every pain, there is a pleasure. He caressed, touched and lavished her sore ass with attentive, cool touch of his metal palm. It was surprising to the redhead how smooth it felt, how _alive_ were the shifting and calibrating metals of his touch. She couldn't resist spreading her legs and arching her back, not afraid to expose her most intimate parts: she was begging for the relief of contact and was rewarded with dextrous fingers gliding over her cotton-clad mound.

"You should see it, Stevie..." Bucky's rough voice resonated near disbelief, "She is soaking wet. I think she has learned her lesson." It didn't escape Lucy how the last phrase was a change in tone, she found both men sharing a look. It was magical, they shared a connection that let them speak and understand each other without words; feeling emotionally overwhelmed, Lucy found herself fighting back tears of - she didn't know what it was, only that it made her feel warm and fuzzy, and a tiny bit envious deep in her chest. She didn't know them, they didn't know her, it was too intimate and she felt almost like an intruder between the two, even more so when the brunette touched the blonde's arm in a familiar, comforting gesture.

Thanks to her ministrations, Steve's cock sprung free of it's confinement: straight, veiny, as thick as her wrist and with a soft pink tip that leaked copious amounts of transparent fluid. Licking her lips, she wrapped them around the head of his cock, giving it an experimental swipe of her tongue, causing the glorious member's owner to immediately throw his head back on the backrest of the couch, moaning loudly, openly. His forehead glistening with sweat, chest flushed, he was a truly erotic sight to behold.

Bucky froze behind Lucy mid-stroke causing the latter to try and will his attention back by shaking her rear end. The brunette grabbed a luscious cheek in response, standing up on his knees and tugging her crotch to his own. The slow grind of his hips, the firmness of his cock against her mound, combined, sparked a sound from her throat that naught would be able to describe, the vibration around Steve's cock provoking a moan of his own. The blonde let go of some of the control and bucked his hips, fucking into her wet, warm mouth, taking care to not go much further than the tip.

He was promptly encouraged to continue when that mouth hungrily swallowed inch after inch of his cock until his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he felt Lucy's pointy nose touch the soft fluff of blonde hair on his pubic mound; he looked down, seeing a pair or hazel eyes looking at him with earnest trust and returned the stare, part shock part yearning, as he tried to move his hips.

Carefully, Steve withdrew his cock from the redhead's mouth until but a tip was surrounded by the heat of her mouth; he needn't have worried, however, as she eagerly descended back on it, meeting his thrusts with bobs of her head.

"Fuck Stevie, I didn't think that somebody could swallow that huge tool of yours," came a ragged voice from behind her. She allowed herself a tiny smile around Steve's hardness, she felt proud.

"Ooh Buck, her mouth feels amazing," answered Steve's strained voice, "she's such a good girl, swallowing it... Uhh," a particularly deep stroke had Steve stopping mid-sentence. "Why don't you help her out, Buck?" Followed a question, once Steve had caught his breath.

"Fuck yeah Stevie, I want to try that sweet little pussy!" It seemed like Bucky was indeed waiting for Steve's permission, if judging by the haste of which he discarded his and Lucy's underwear. She spread her legs, inviting him in and he tested the waters by spreading the moisture of her sex on himself: the sheer amount of fluids made him moan and grip her hips to line up his nearly purple cock with the deep red of her entrance.

Her responsive body allowed effortless entrance in spite him being thick and hard as rod, he was close to Steve in size, not so grotesque but easily fitting amongst the biggest porn stars Lucy had seen. Trepidation rising in her again, Bucky felt it, and entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust. Much to his surprise, he couldn't fit fully in.

Swimming in the feeling of being so _full_ in both of her holes, lust and the heat of the moment, the redhead's eyelids dropped. Nobody knew who, a chain reaction of moans was all that followed; guttural - Bucky's, high and strung - Steve's, muffled, gasping breaths as Lucy got fucked from both ends. It didn't take the two soldiers long to find a joint rhythm, when the brunette bucked into her squelching pussy, the blonde pulled out of her throat.

Soon, Steve could not resist grabbing her head and holding her face as he fucking with increasing pace, rhythm faltering now and then. The coil in his belly grew tight. The spasms of Lucy's throat massaged his dick all around. Finding the stimulation irresistible herself, she pushed back towards Bucky - curses and compliments equally flowed from his lips as he chased his release inside of the small girl. The Sargent saw stars every time he closed his eyes, littering praises to her snug gushing pussy. His voice dripped with passionate filth.

"Fuck babydoll, I'm going to cum," Steve gasped out, downright pounding her throat. As soon as he heard the vaguely encouraging noises, his grip on her face tightened, leaving white fingerprints behind, the frenzied pace of his hips never faltering.

"Heavens Stevie, fill her up," Bucky gasped. Lucy wasn't the only one affected by the Captain's voice, the contrast between his angelic looks, prudent public persona and the swearing, sweaty mess fucking into the tiny redhead's throat - it was _a lot_ to take in. No doubt Tony and Bruce were looking at the security footage right now, Bucky thought, and with that thought, the last threads of his own control broke.

Feeling the metal fingers circle her swollen clit proved too much for Lucy and she came, abruptly, loudly, spasming and clenching around the men that filled her to the brim. Bucky followed suit when the liquid spurted out of her pussy and down his shaft and his balls, sensing his cock pulse within her heat that milked him; the roar that followed was a weak expression of his orgasm. The Captain's eyes glazed over upon seeing the couple in front of him burst at the seams, feeling mad with arousal, relentless in his assault on the petite face in front of him, he desperately clung to the last bit of self-awareness he had before the space and stars took him, too.

Salt and musk and _Steve_ flooded her mouth, her nose, the clarity that followed was insistent on telling her she probably looked stupid like that: naked, with a torn bra hanging off her left shoulder and cum all over her face and thighs... She told that voice to shut the fuck up.

Resting her face on Steve's thigh - _Oh shit, I'm probably smearing cum all over his leg,_ \- she noticed something big walking towards her in peripheral vision. Upon closer inspection it was revealed to be a grinning Thor. Only the sheer exhaustion prevented Lucy from crawling under the couch in shame.

"I apologise my friends, I seem to have misplaced Mjolnir in this room. Brother Stark is not very fond of the damage she does when I call her to me from my quarters." Thor sounded apologetic but his twinkling eyes told another story.

"You big oaf," came a regal, bored voice somewhere from the direction of the doorway.

This time Lucy didn't hold back a bashful groan. She was still attached to Bucky, who had regained at least a half chub - she couldn't tell, not really, her genitals having gone temporarily numb from the rough fucking she had gotten. Steve's baby batter had found it's way all over her face and in her (clean!) hair, any other time she'd be all over that shit but the spectators made the task of feeling the moment _hard_.

Neither Bucky nor Steve attempted to move from their post-orgasmic stupor. Lucy felt the awkwardness seep into the space between them previously occupied by intimacy...

Quiet steps treaded a way to her. Tears filled her eyes from the conflict going on inside of her. Lucy's head swam, suddenly hyperaware of being surrounded by strange men and covered in their cum, bruised by their hand, the feelings of vulnerability made her shy away from the hand holding a soft green blanket towards her. Loki, the ex-villain, the trickster, was squatting a way from her looking flustered and awed.

"Get him off me, please," - Lucy croaked, surprised at the low volume of her voice. Her throat was convinced she was yelling and spasmed, erupting shudders from the girl.

"Get off, Barnes," Loki none too gently removed the man from behind her, from inside her. There was something unnatural about the stuff way he was acting and Loki cast a concerned look towards Thor. The blonde God frowned and went to pick up the metal-armed man meanwhile Loki wrapped a half-dozing Lucy in the blanket he conjured upon seeing her bruised and dazed between the two supersoldiers.

"S'not right how they're actin'," southern accent slipping into her speech, Lucy voiced the concerns that both Asgardians had. "I dunno how's right but my mama taught me better," she said, not even protesting Loki's handling of her. She only hoped he would help her wash off the cum that assaulted her senses, or at least deposit her into the nearest bathroom.

The hurts on her neck and ass registered only mildly before the last thing she saw: a bathroom with a bath that rivaled Tony's... But it wasn't his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickenssss...


	3. wicked love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> say my name  
Loki  
LOKI
> 
> i sinned and I've been blessed. there aren't triggers in this chapter so I won't spoil it. I would love your comments, even if it's a question of my address so you can bill me for your ruined underwear. even the eggplant emoji ok

"So... Do you get to clean cum from unfamiliar girls often?" A brief moment after the words left her mouth, Lucy was struck by the horror of her verbal diarrhea. Her friends, they wouldn't have batted an eye at this speech, they talked mostly in memes anyway, it was a given that her alarm clock, on a Wednesday, screeched "It's Wednesday, my dudes!" in her best friend's voice and on Fridays it played the song of the same name by Rebecca Black.

She'd sworn to herself she would act _normal_ when she left Tony's bathroom the first time, she didn't want to seem like some no-life weirdo that spends their days on the internet making vines and reblogging reaction gifs from RuPaul's drag race. Even if it was the literal truth. Outside her job and the occasional drunken escapades she didn't get out of the house much, she lacked the appreciation for theaters and art galleries, the patience for any kind of sport or the mental capacity for charity work.

In short, Lucy was a _millennial_. The realization never had made her uncomfortable before, until she was fucked into oblivion by two damn good looking men who were geriatric in all but their bodies. Steven Rogers surely dressed like it, that's for one, and it looked plain adorable how his face scrunched while he slowly poked at his StarkPhone.

It was a given that she felt acutely out of place being cared for by an alien space God. She didn't know much about Loki beyond his failed occupation attempt and some ridiculous stories from Norse mythology, what she knew, _knew_ was what she saw: he was ridiculously good-looking, flawless. Unblemished skin, silky black hair, regal posture and twinkling eyes. The press pushed the notion of Asgardians being so alike the humans and Lucy supposed so, if adding the fact that they looked photoshopped in real life. Seriously, he's a like a thousand years old and not a single wrinkle or pigmentation spot marred his alabaster face. _Not. Fair._

With her chubby tummy and faded stretch marks on just about every inch of her skin, Lucy felt extremely self-conscious. It was that strange, vulnerable feeling that followed the supersoldier sandwich, that made her this way, she thought, when cool, slender hands held a washcloth to her face, wiping it with a gentle dabbing motion. Her mama raised her not in shame but in acceptance to her _human_ characteristics, those covered everything from crooked teeth to the occasional midnight take-out, citing God making us the way we are not in spite but in... Lucy lost that train of thought.

Loki _was_ a God, so what if it was a whole another denomination? He was more benevolent than the Christian one, for sure, because right now _Loki_ was chuckling and saying something sweet and rinsing the river of semen from her body. Jesus wouldn't do that, now would he?

What Loki was saying went over her head, it was fuzzy, full of cotton. It didn't seem to upset him in the slightest, the tall God easily picking her up and standing her down on her own two feet. Pruny feet. Lucy wiggled her toes on the soft mat, a green square of fluff marring the bright white tiles of his bathroom.

"You're kinda cute though," she said to his chest - she barely reached his shoulders with the top of her head - much to his surprise, his narrow jaw snapping shut with a click.

"Thank you," the way he said it, it was more of a question of her sanity rather than gratitude. Lucy plucked the, _surprise_, forest green towel from his hands and hastily drew it around herself, the remnants of that frail needy feeling fresh in her head. The redhead had to cock her head quite high to questioningly look at his face; an arm extented towards the bed that was visible from the doorway, answered her question. He followed her until she sat down on the dark, probably a million-thread-count sheets.

"Are you hungry, little dove?" _Seriously, what is it with these people and nicknames?!_

"I could eat something, yeah," she said, taking notice of the lack of pain in her throat. She rubbed it absent-mindedly, noticing his gentle grin as he went out of the bedroom towards his kitchen.

Once his back disappeared from view, Lucy allowed herself to have a mini freak-out, raising up her arms to the sky and mouthing an exasperated "whaaaaaat??" much to her own amusement. She probably looked truly insane, talking to herself and all.

Going as far as to _talking about it_ with someone... The logical part of her brain told the superhero team would make her sign some sort of non-disclosure agreement while the emotional aspects simply made her visualize herself strapped in a straightjacket while her best friend and a faceless woman wearing lab coats stood silently as Lucy's bound body was taken away in an ambulance. She silently cursed out her overactive imagination: while definitely helpful during particularly lonely nights, it was counterproductive in her situation.

Huffing in irritation, the redhead crawled under the sheets and rested against the headboard, picking at her short nails for a lack of things to do. If she'd had her smartphone, she wouldn't have to feel awkward and overthink herself into a heart attack. Or something.

In came Loki, brandishing a plate and two glasses of wine, absolutely not helping her feel in the right mind. She only prayed her word vomit wouldn't make a return appearance because a) he was trying to be nice & b) she would make the alien definitely disappointed in humanity. He sat down, depositing the dish between them - upon closer inspection, it's contents consisted solely of different kinds of cheese, fruit and a couple pieces of homemade-looking bread.

A wine glass was passed onto her, "Do you find this... Acceptable?"

_Oh, boy,_ she thought because that voice, like dripping honey and chocolate, and cinnamon candle wax - washed over her, provoking a twinge in her lower abdomen. Resistance was futile, she'd found it out already, so she simply held on for the ride - zero doubts were had by the redhead on the fact that, probably, in another half an hour, this very room is going to be filled with her cries of pleasure, sheets stained with their combined sweat and release.

"More than," she answered, taking a quick sip of the sweet and sour liquid. "Thanks, by the way... For everything."

"I am a benevolent God." Was his answer, and seriously, what the fuck. She looked at him, first in indignation, but saw the mirth in his eyes and recognized the phrase for what is: a joke. It was a joke, kind of sarcastic and a little bit self-deprecating. "And to answer your previous question..." He made a sincere face, "Thor and his friends have _taken_ a maiden to bed often enough in their younger days. Much like the Captain, they weren't very well familiar with what to do _after_ they were done with her. I was asked to take _care_ of Thor's reputation when the bleeding and bruised maids would exit his chambers, come morning, for all the early rising palace inhabitants to see."

"Woah," was the answer Lucy could muster. She felt kind of sorry for Loki, him having to - clean up after his brother, for the lack of a better word. "That sounds like it sucked," she decided that validating some of those feelings that showed on his face - some compassion was long overdue.

"Eloquently put, darling" he saluted her with his wine glass. Despite the grim topic of the discussion he was wearing a half-smirk, the same amused expression he had in all of the press-release photos she had seen on the internet.

It dawned on her - the smirking, the pet names - she _was_ a pet, a fascinating little creature in his eyes, and therefore, amusing. Did he wonder how she got this far, throwing herself under anyone who as much as touches her? Did he wonder that she was aware she's being passed along like some sort of groupie, did he _know_ that Lucy was as aching as she was uneasy to feel the next Avenger between her legs?

Thinking about her current place in the tower, she shivered a little; the idea of being "passed on" to Thor had lost it's appeal after Loki had told what he told. Slow thoughts swam around the remaining members of the team as they shipped their wine in silence.

Was Loki waiting for her to throw herself at him like she did with the others? The feelings of comfort and safety dissipated as Lucy succumbed to the uneasy nature of her predicament. Feeling mad at Tony, just a little bit, feeling mad at herself for being so easy and much more mad at the confusion that was wreaked upon her. She'd never felt bad about getting laid so why did she feel like a dirty streetwalker right now? It seemed that no amount of scrubbing would get the filth off her.

Frustrated, she blinked away tears, downing the last of the wine.

"Is anything wrong?" Came a cool voice of her current bed companion.

"My stupid brain is being, well, stupid," Lucy always thought honesty was the best policy. Detail-less honesty. The God didn't need to be bothered with her inner turmoils.

It was unexpected but sweet; Loki silently wrapped his long arms around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. Tears were threatening to escape with an added ferocity, so Lucy did the best she could in her situation: she slid down until her face was pressing against his side, somewhere between his chest and his armpit, and took deep, long breaths to calm herself down.

"I know Midgardians aren't open to couplings of such nature," his arm closest to her was rubbing circles on her back, "Which is a strange concept to us; love comes in many shapes and forms and so does pleasure," was he reading her mind? Logically, Lucy knew he was right, she'd preached the same to homophobes, other -phobes and plain judgy people. "You are worth no less simply because you are _generous_ in sharing those things," _huh, well, that's one way to put it._

"I knew it! Asgard has orgies and nobody's an ass about it, that's another fifty bucks my friend owes me," after a brief moment of silence and being _petted_, Lucy felt some awkwardness seep into the space between them and hurried to dissolve it with the first thing that popped into her mind.

Loki chuckled. "Do you bet on everything with your friend?"

"No, just fun stuff. Football, Super Bowl commercials, which one of the Avengers has the biggest dick..." before she could even think about shutting her trap, _for good_, the conversation went south.

Another laugh left the trickster's lips, this one louder, more melodic, _genuine_. "Who did you bet on, little dove?" Pure mischief. _Uhh, yes please, thank you!_

"... You," she reluctantly grumbled.

"Is it so?" Open-handed on her back slowly turned into gentle caresses, now skimming down her sides; she was still naked as the day she was born under the soft blanket and his touch felt _electric_.

"It's always the tall and skinny ones!" She felt the need to justify herself, somehow, with the preposterous way he laid there, like he owned the place and touched like he _owned her_. His head fell back with another one of his "ehehe" laughs, sound so distinctive, she would be able to pick him out of a crowd of laughing people for the rest of her life.

"It is not a widely known fact, however I am compelled to tell you I am not of Asgardian heritage," he calmly told, much to her surprise, "I am Jötunn, Midgardians call them Frost _Giants_," he added, mirthfully smirking, emphasising the end of the sentence. _Smug bastard._

"Giants?" Lucy gulped. "Are we talking like, uhh, seven feet tall kind of giants, or, like, Godzilla..?" She asked, unsure.

In response, he gently removed her from his body to place her on the rumpled sheets and stood up, a ways from the bed.

In front of her very eyes the impossible seemed to happen: his already tall, lithe form grew bigger, skin slowly but steadily flushing _blue_. That kind of royal blue that seemed to not exist in Earth's nature, _unique_, beautifully contrasting with his crimson red eyes. Etched markings decorated the hue of his skin, round and oval ridges textured; she'd thought they would feel rough against her fingers, hard like the rest of his body.

He stood there silently with a strangely vacant face expression.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Lucy breathed out, for the fear that she'd offended him somehow. At her words his expression seemed to soften: the sight of his face was too unusual for her to be able to read it properly. That mattered very little to the redhead, she was completely taken by the alien marvel in front of her. A million questions stormed her mind alongside curiosity, the need to touch, to _explore_.

Untangling her legs from the sheets she took a step full of trepidation towards him, arm extented: "Can I?.."

"You may touch me, little one," his voice was lower, too, with growl hidden underneath. _Primal_, her brain helpfully supplied the right word to describe his speech.

Standing mere inches away from him she could feel the chill around him. He smelled like snow, fresh fallen snow and the frozen lake she'd seen once in her life, and _spruce trees_ and and... He was big, she estimated about seven, seven and a half feet considering her face was level with his solar plexus. She felt tiny, tinier than ever, not so much in size as her person - it was like a revelation, we are not alone in the universe, she was about to touch a beautiful _alien_ creature. No, an alien person, she hastily corrected herself.

The ridges on his body wasn't at all what she thought they would be. They were smooth, like chiseled granite, he was like a statue. Cold to touch - not uncomfortably so - with smooth skin and hard muscle.

"I'll never forget _this_," she admitted to him, tracing marking after marking with the tips of her fingers. He looked down at her and for the love of God she couldn't figure out what his eyes said; she only hoped he would forgive her the plain expression of her emotions. They were far too intense to describe, words escaped her.

She was naked and he was wearing only soft boxer shorts however there was nothing sexual in the magic of the moment. Erotic, perhaps, the way he sighed and stared at her with half-lidded eyes when she traced, touched his body.

"I've never let anybody touch me in this form," Loki finally admitted. It didn't make any sense to her, to hide such beauty, but then again - maybe Asgardians were racist? Not the type to think _deep_ thoughts when this marvelous creature was right under her palms, _untouched_, she slowly turned him, face away from the bed, and gave gentle pushes to his chest as he walked backwards until he collapsed on the bed.

"I think I'll remedy that."

The chemical in her blood had nothing to do with this, not at the moment. It lurked in the back of her mind as a small inconvenience, perhaps, mixed in with the bit of wine, safekeeping her own warmth from the chill of his skin.

She started by pulling him higher on the bed, thankfully it was large enough to accommodate him comfortably at his full size. Feeling like and excited child, sitting atop his chest, Lucy's hands found their way around his face, cupping his cheeks, tracing every line on his face with her thumbs.

Loki's eyes fluttered shut, jaw setting itself in that firm, blocky shape she knew was arousal. He was holding back, for some reason.

"Does that make you... Hot?" The quiet quip made him _growl_.

"Little mortal, do not play games you cannot finish." The God tried to appear menacing, threatening even, but all she saw was a flustered young man laying beneath her warmth.

"As far as I'm concerned, I've already won," the duality of that phrase made her giggle. She'd seen what he was packing, another bet she'd won to her friend; her true victory lied in being the cause for such relish of a God. He was enjoying himself and she knew it.

Bearing no mind to his frustrated growl, she continued to trace markings down his neck, on his and on his belly. Truly, for her it was a game, a part of her mind wondering how long will it take before his patience snaps.

As she was scooting lower and lower, the moment her bare center touched the clothes tip of his cock, a sound in between a groan and a whine, pure dripping _sin_, escaped his lips. Lucy continued to idly touch his belly, muscles rippling and flexing under her gentle touch; there was something highly arousing about this beast of a man desperately trying to stifle his moans and wanton writhing under her small body.

Lucy had gotten a taste of power, she loved it, knowing she wouldn't give it away without a fight if judging by the moisture that was well on it's way to stain Loki's boxers.

Settling down between his legs, she contemplated the way she was going to continue: obviously, _that thing_ wouldn't be able to fit in her without causing some damage and she still had half the team to go... Stopping herself, she wondered how exactly did she get this far? But there was no space to think about the future, her current lover emitting a series of _needy_ sounds at her careless brushing of his clothed erection.

She fought with them for a while until he simply vanished them away. She didn't even flinch, just grabbed his _blue_ cock and licked around every ridge it had. His hips stuttered and momentarily stilled.

"Wha-a.." Shamelessly lifting her eyes she saw him shocked, staring down between his legs like she'd hung the damn moon, so she wrapped her lips around the angry purple tip and sucked, hollowing out her cheeks, feeling herself get more and more heated as his eyes rolled and his head limply hit the pillow.

The noises he made were _gospel_.

Lucy's deepthroat skills were good, amazing even, and she had given more than a few of howling, leg-shaking orgasms to guys in her life. This time it couldn't be the case, the dick was more than her forearm in length and the head was about the only part of it that fit in her mouth as it was smaller than the shaft itself; Lucy would wrap her hands around it, both of them, and there would still be more of blue skin left.

"By the Norns, woman!" His sudden exclamation disrupted her focus and the hands that had been slowly stroking up and down that gorgeous member, stilled. She relented, releasing the tip of it with a resonating "pop" and watched him blindly hump the air in favor of seeking out the heat of her mouth once again.

Having abandoned all shame, Lucy heftily spat on his dick a couple of times and stroked him top to bottom, spreading the moisture all over his shaft, watching his body twitch every time her fingerpads brushed the spot where the head and the shaft met; filing that knowledge away for later, the redhead adjusted the pressure and went on to _milk_ him...

With both hands. Her dainty right hand moved along him, trying to cover as much of the cool flesh as she could while her left snuck down to his heavy balls and fondled them, hastily slipping under them, hungrily seeking the spongy soft spot between his legs.

"Fuck!" Came from Loki in a choked voice indicating she found what she was looking for: thankful that Frost Giant anatomy was similar enough to her human one, she pressed two knuckles towards his prostate in gentle, rotating motions, watching his eyebrows climb higher and higher on his forehead until his eyes opened, unblinking, and bore into her own shining orbs.

Lucy was a Sight: heavy breasts bouncing to the rhythm of her strokes, one frail hand wrapped around his blue flesh, her cheeks red with extertion but jaw determined, he could no longer resist the longing urge to touch her.

"Come, little one," he more grabbed than ushered her to sit atop him, moaning, "Oh, Norns," when the slick heat of her center slid atop his shaft.

"Move yourself on me, _please_," he begged, gripping her hips to quicken the delicious friction on his dick. Lucy rolled her clit against him in fluid motions, the textured markings on him adding the urgency, sparking pleasure every time her folds caught against one. She moaned, loud and low, when one of Loki's hands reached out to fondle her breast and her sounds became that much louder at the cool brush of his fingers on her nipples.

The buds hardened immediately, sensations increasing tenfold as the urgency of Loki's movements increased. He wasn't lost in his pleasure, quite the contrary: green eyes wide open, he seemed to be drinking in the bounce of her tits, the sway of her hips, every inch of flesh where their bodies met. Only his stuttering breath gave up his bliss: the heat of her body made the God feel like he was drowning, falling into the warmest abyss, he'd never be _cold_ again.

Loki could sense his peak approach like an avalanche: it started in his ears, filled with Lucy's cries of overstimulation, flowing down every thread of the ridge down his chest; it thundered in his head and in his loins causing his balls to draw up.

Firmly holding her hips in place, the trickster rutted his length along her leaking slit.

"I'm, I'm going to paint your magnificent body with my seed, gonna come all over your pretty little cunt," Loki growled in response to Lucy clawing his chest at the whirlwind of sensations coming from the apex of he thighs; she couldn't come like that, no, she felt too _empty_, leaving her to hang on the brink of her release, overstimulated to the point of pain, when his blunt cockhead brushed against her dripping hole.

"My God, please..." She didn't know what she was begging for, not really, but it appeared to have an explosive effect on Loki who quickened his pace, shortening his strokes so only the tip of his cock would rub against her sopping hole.

"Yes, little one, say my name, I'm your God," Loki rambled, on the brink of his release, watching her tits bounce with every jerk of his hips.

"Loki," she moaned, arching her back.

"Again", he demanded, feeling the leaking slit of his dick catch on the inner lips of her pussy.

"Loki!" She screamed, suddenly grinding on him with renewed vigor, desperately trying to get him around, on, _in_ her leaking hole, missing the tiniest bit of fullness to grant her relief; Lucy was strung so high she nearly cried out her need, it still undoubtedly showing the way she chanted, "Loki, Loki, Loki!" over and over again.

Her eyes flew open the moment Lucy heard the keening noise start in the bottom of Loki's throat, cool liquid sending shivers down her spine with a mild sting everywhere it touched her pussy, her stomach, her thighs and her ass. Breath lost somewhere between mouth and lungs, the redhead saw his mouth fall open and raven locks scatter in disarray, a long, high whine coming out of his throat; his orgasm looked like it _felt_ mind-blowing and Lucy forgot for her own straining need for a moment, enjoying her lover's bliss as much as she would come enjoy her own.

Hazel eyes met emerald ones after a long second when he caught his breath; he looked like she'd just given him a Kingdom, she - like she'd witnessed God descending from Heavens to thank her, personally, for existing on this planet. Lucy wasn't sure when Loki had reverted to his Asgardian form, she was too busy _feeling_ him and-

She didn't even get to make a sound as she was flipped over, his lithe, strong body resting halfway on top of her. Lucy didn't know what she had done to receive such obvious looks of adoration but she was not going to protest: his eyes promised gentle kisses while his smirk warned her she would get devoured whole.

"Let me _worship you_," was whispered into her ear in that rich, dark-chocolate tone of his.

Loki wasted no time, descending on her body in a passionate assault: having no qualms about tasting his own (copious amounts, really, _obscene amounts_-) release, the God made his way down her front, briefly stopping to suck on her nipples and she saw stars-

"Oh my God," were the only words she was capable of uttering at feeling of being _devoured_ by Loki, his clever mouth and tongue doing unspeakable things to her already lust-clouded body and brain. Twirling, then gently biting her nipple, then closing her mouth around the flesh of her breast.

"More, please, more, _more_, I need you," came broken cries and sobs.

Loki grinned, the epitome of filth, diving into her white-covered sex with the vigour of a man starved and a few sloppy licks of her clit was the last thing she needed to let go; gripping him _by the hair,_ she held onto dear life by his dark locks as her hips ground on his face, too out of it to care about anything but his touch on her swollen clit.

"Lo-oki-i!" She screamed; he never relented, mushing his nose and his tongue in her slit as she came once more, gushing clear liquid all over him, his mouth and his chin.

The moan that followed wasn't even slightly muffled by her pussy, it vibrated through her sending little hot sparks of molten honey all through her veins.

"Yes, darling, I want more, give me," Loki demanded impatiently, sucking her clit into his mouth. She never experienced a sensation like this, burning almost, on the brink of pain and she relished it.

Her third orgasm was unstoppable, flowing over her like a tsunami wave, washing away all her filters: she babbled nonsense, something about Gods and begged, she begged so much for more, she begged him to stop, her hips never ceasing their dance on his face. She begged him for more, more stimulation, more of his amazing mouth on her.

Time stopped flowing a while ago, her head swimming and pulsating.

The friction on her sex stopped, provoking a keen from Lucy, she wasn't sure if she would be able continue if they'd stop now.

"Oh, fuck," she exclaimed, feeling a thin nimble digit circling her entrance. A few probing dips after the digit was joined by another one - or two, she was a bit fuzzy on the details - her surroundings were fuzzy except for the fingertips pressed against her g-spot.

Lucy felt the tension in her heavy limbs start to rise as Loki picked up a racer's pace, violently and repeatedly shoving his fingers inside of her; if she would have looked at him now, she would see the utter _adoration_ written on his features, as plain and obvious as the impatience that showed in the movement of his fingers, in their pace and rhythm.

She screamed his name when she came.

They both heard knocking in the background but paid it no mind; whatever it was, it couldn't be more important than _here_ and _now_.

"Loki, open the door and give the maiden a rest, Hel damn you!" A booming voice distracted them from their high.

"God-dammit," Lucy said, exhausted, but unwilling to part with her lover. She tugged at his hair, forcing him to stay where he was - cheek propped on her thigh and a slender palm covering her sex, he looked _adorable_.

  
Gathering her in his arms, he rested against the headboard and covered them with sheets; if not for the absolutely blissful look on his face, Lucy would have apologized soaking him. She was a squirter and he, well, he looked like he'd been walking in the rain.

"Brother, are you decent?" The owner of the loud voice was proven to be Thor, coming into the room with a smirking Natasha in tow. She gave an impressed look to Lucy, whose eyes were drooping - followed by a sterner one, directed at Loki.

"He is decent, can't say the same about his personality," the quip earned Lucy a pinch on the bottom, it was an affectionate one and completely devoid of malice.

Lucy scrunched her face and sneezed.

"Bless you!" Automatically answered Natasha.

"I've been blessed plenty," salaciously smirked Lucy.

"Milady, allow me to prove you wrong  
... Once you've been rested," Thor _winked_, much to Loki's scowling dismay. Promptly, the trickster God tucked the sheets tighter around Lucy's lax form. Putting a hand on her forehead, she welcomed his touch with a soft keen before she felt herself slipping into a deep sleep. The words he muttered went unheard, unintelligible, as she was fast asleep the moment her eyes closed.

Her sleep was dreamless.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody:  
not anyone:  
not a single loving soul:
> 
> me: have thor interrupt loki whilst he's eating pussy something good
> 
> I'll see myself out thanks OK bye


	4. all night, damn the hurt and the pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... I don't know how this came out like... But we're getting into the "orgy" tag like real fast... Scotty beamed me up & stuff. I don't know how to write Bruce and for that, he fascinates me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at added tags. There's some kinky shit. And a bit of gay sex. 
> 
> Edit: I'm taking requests for porn in the Avengers MCU. I'm not as good with Black Panther/Agents of SHIELD stuff but I'm willing to do some googling for that. ;)

“Rogers and Barnes lost control of themselves and Bruce thinks it might have something to do with the chemical Lucy was doused in. Thor brought them straight to the lab, Bruce took their blood and discovered miniscule traces of the same purple stuff, Tony had it too, only in larger amounts - boys’ superserum probably just metabolized it faster. Stark is coherent, he’s acting like himself… Except I noticed he pocketed Lucy’s underwear at some point and periodically takes it out and…”

“I understand it, Widow. The poison is contagious.”

“Not exactly, Loki. When passed-on secondhand, it simply mimics great sexual attraction and lowers the inhibitions of the affected person. In this dose it is nearly harmless unless we’re talking about serial rapists.”

"I didn’t need the poison to see that the girl is attractive, Widow, if that is what you’re implying. "

“I’m not implying anything, Loki. I haven’t seen you handle a mortal with such affection and care. Previously you made it clear you wouldn’t give a second thought if one of our kind died.”

“Watch your words, Lady Natasha! I care nor for what your researchers think, I trust my brother’s judgement.”

“Some individuals are more worthy than others. You, Widow, should know.”

* * *

Lucy woke up from a swaying motion rocking her body. Deep, dreamless sleep that Loki had brought her was a relish to the soreness and fatigue of her body. She was grateful.

The trickster showered her with affliction, words meaning nothing and everything. He probably didn’t even realize he’d done a great favor to her self-worth. There was no more need for Lucy to rationalize her own behavior; the “chemical reaction” excuse got her only so far, she’d already proven to herself she could have controlled the urges. Her Catholic guilt was bound to rear it’s ugly head sooner than later - and it got it’s ass kicked by a whole fuckin’ God. _Jesus nothing!_

The girl didn’t care she was obviously getting carried somewhere. The arms holding her didn’t feel familiar through the thin sheet, however it would have been impossible for Loki to just give her away to some random person, that much Lucy knew. The arms were large, larger than Steve’s, and hotter, too, their owner smelled like leather and rainstorms.

_Thor, then_, deduced the redhead.

“Where are we going?” She asked, her voice quiet from sleep.

Thor chuckled somewhere deep in his chest, “Brother Banner requested I personally deliver you to his laboratory.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Great, more blood tests. Yay…” The end of the sentence was dripping with sarcasm which only made Thor’s grin grow wider. Did the man ever stop smiling? There wasn’t any single photo of him on the internet where he looked anything but happy; curious grin, satisfied grin, cocky grin, flirtatious grin…

“Do not fret, young lady. I shall personally accompany you to your preferred resting area after the doctor does his job.” The thunderer winked at her, his blue eyes radiating comfort only and older, more experienced person could provide. Something about his demeanor emanated safety and protection provoking a sense of relief in the young woman. Shyly, she allowed herself to snuggle deeper into Thor’s warm embrace and was rewarded with a momentary tightening of his arms around her small body - compared to him, she was tiny, the redhead had found herself to be fond of the feel during her time with Loki.

Both brothers were giants compared to earthborn men, both men equally towering and majestic as they were _opposites_ \- where Loki was lithe and agile and cool, Thor was all bulk, full of force and fire. Lucinda dared to imagine she could have both, as both were appealing in their own way. Physically, at least - their manners left no room for complaining, both princes were chivalrous, much more so than the boys she was used to. So what if the Asgardians spoke funny? Shakespeare geeks from the Drama club pulled the same stints and didn’t have any problems getting laid…

Bright white, fluorescent lights assaulted her vision, forcing her to close her slumber-fatigued eyes. Loud beeping, along with that, signfied their arrival into the laboratory - Lucy prepared herself to be positioned ass-naked on something cold and, possibly, made of metal - letting out an indignant squack when her carrier sat down abruptly, placing her atop his lap not unlike the Captain had done a while ago. Thor allowed her her modesty, though, by securing the sheet under her armpits.

“How are you, Lucy?” A familiar voice asked her gently.

The redhead begrudgingly cracked open an eye: “Like your lamps are pouring acid into my eyeballs, Tony. I’m fine, just fine.”

Stark laughed, giving her cheek an affectionate pat. “Cheeky. Bruce’s coming, relax and enjoy.” And off he went, over to his side of the room, immediately diverting his attention on tech, poking stuff with an about face.

Lucy bit her lip, idly wondering if he’d agree to fuck her right there on the floor of his lab, where the famous Iron Man suits were being made - if she’s going balls out, what has she got to lose? Nothing. Gaining wonderful memories, however…

“It’s nice to see you again, mister Hot Doctor!” The girl smiled salaciously, causing the coming man to blush and almost get tangled in his own two feet, which Lucy found downright adorable. Every now and then she greatly enjoyed playing with a shy guy, driving him to the brink of insanity with flirtatious remarks and unsubtle hints… Calling it a kink would be an overstatement, the young woman always could do with an ego boost… Or something. Lucy had already stuck her foot in her mouth with Banner of all people, might as well own it. Hot Doctor it is.

Acutely aware of the grinning man behind and under het, her posture shifted just enough for the man in front of her to blush high on his cheekbones, thick eyelashes fluttering behind his thinly rimmed glasses.

The doctor looked… Flattered. Definitely not uncomfortable, not in a bad way at least. Banner kept sneaking glances at her face when he drew one, two and then three vials of blood, frowning when her carefully maintained neutral expression cracked and she shifted in discomfort.

“I’ll bring you some water and a sandwich, how’s that sound?” Banner hastily withdrew his needles and stuff. He saw he face scrunch and she definitely looked paler than the first time he’d seen her.

“Make that a can of pop and… Pomegranate.” Eyebrows rose to her odd request. “I’m anemic. Sugar for energy and the red fruity stuff for iron in my blood. Gran always made me eat it after tests, it helped, so…” Before she could finish her sentence, Bruce was already nodding rapidly and scurrying off to the small fridge next to the entrance door. In the back of the room, Lucy heard Tony talking to Jarvis about ordering a whole box full of pomegranates. Scoff. Rich people never ceased to baffle her.

Doctor Banner returned with a can of Grape Fanta, eliciting a grabby-hand response from the young lady. And stood there. While she drank it. Staring.

“Uhh… Is everything alright with ya’?” Round hazel eyes stared at the doctor, possibly questioning his sanity. Lucy was only halfway aware of Thor _giggling_ into her hair. “Is there a joke I’m, uh, not getting?”

Tony started chuckling, too. “Pumpkin, this soda can has been in our fridge for … I’d rather not say how long. Everyone hates it - maybe except Clint, but he’s not allowed in the lab anymore after the Nerf arrow incident.”

Lucy shook her head. Like that explained anything.

“Clint’s from Kentucky.”

Ooh, she got it now. “Gonna make all the redneck jokes, Mister “my house is a large phallic object”?”

Stark adopted a disgruntled face, faking a heart wound. His eyes were laughing though, sparkling even. The engineer enjoyed their wisecrack battles, Lucy knew it.

“’Tis Kentucky you speak of must be a place where the most resilient warriors are born!” Thor thundered with a grin. “Even I could not withstand the taste of that vile concoction!”

“Hey, y’all ganging up on me now, huh?” Lucy decided to play along now for fun’s sake, crossing her arms right under her impressive cleavage. Diversion tactics in place, she pouted. “Right, bully the poor, naked girl.” Just the tiniest bit of petulance pitched into her voice.

Out of the three men only Bruce had the sense to look at least a little bit guilty. Lucy took the bait. “Take me away from these meanies!” And made more of her grabby hand gestures towards Banner, the look complete with a pout and a sad huff.

Lucy wasn’t sure what to expect from Banner. It was incredibly hard to get a read on him, he was as friendly as everybody else while keeping a solid distance from the… Whatever she had going on with the rest of the team. The doc was shy, too, but she could see a magnetic darkness lurking behind the fluttering eyelashes and blushing facades.

It wasn’t very hard to figure out why exactly he’d choose to be distant: the threat of his alter-ego was an unspoken implication with the way she’d seen his teammates act around him. Did it terrify her? Lucy wasn’t sure. They were the Avengers, the good guys. They wouldn’t jeopardize her safety and Bruce wouldn’t even interact with her if he’d be a risk. Faintly rising heat throughout her limbs reminded her of the reason behind her lack of common sense… Breeding another conflict of lust and apprehension deep within. Was she really about to play the beauty and the beast? Naivety long gone on vacay, she knew what’s going to happen once Banner plucks her from Thor’s arms and brings her to his lair.

Jokes about hot doctors aside, she was gearing up to fuck The Doctor. The one with the green anger problem. Her witty, backtalking ass was gonna play with the “annoy me and I’ll smash you to bits” guy.

“Let’s get some food in you!” And just like that, Lucy was indeed plucked from Thor’s arms.

And yes, oh, yes, she’s on the leather couch in the far away corner of the lab, and it already smells like sex in here - not to mention it looks exactly like the couch from a certain genre of pornography. Lucy swallowed a grin. Fire in her loins, that pulling ache in her belly made her thoughts fuzzy and the world around her tinted in a magenta hue. The seeds of pomegranate are in a bowl, and the bowl is in her lap.

Lucy took one. Smashed it between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, savouring the sweet and sour juice.

Eyes met eyes. Hers, curious and daring. Banner’s, no less curious and no less daring. Were they expecting her to make the first move? The doctor gave the tiniest smirk when he removed his glasses and put them on the high table.

Thor was grinning his thousand-watt grin, talking with Tony and staring at her from the opposite end of the room. The God’s wolfish look reminded her of his brother, guess the blond had learned something from him after all.

Bruce was frowning, no doubt already a foot deep in whatever self-deprecation that man seemed to lug everywhere with him. _So that’s what it was!_ A proverbial lightbulb went on top of her head, a couple of seeds went into her mouth, juice dripping from the corner of her mouth. The distant mood that surrounded Banner was not shyness, it was something more… Sinister. People that pitied themselves were tough nuts to crack.

Lucy popped another handful of seeds and bit her lip, purposefully letting the juice leak past her lips. The grin that followed was positively feral, no doubt startling Bruce out of his staring. Earth to Bruce Banner, do you copy? The man looked every bit an astronaut in space with that far-away, awed look.

Again, she caught his eyes. A raised eyebrow, she parted her legs, letting the sheet cling to her sides, modesty forgotten.

_Seriously, what’s up with him?_ Banner kept on his eerie eyeballing. The girl supposed it was some sort of game where he is the beast and she is the beauty and that would mean she’s supposed to be running, only this time she dared, _hunted_ him… In that feminine way, no brute force, just an offering impossible to resist.

Wiping the corners of her mouth with a sigh, popping the thumb between her red tainted lips, she allowed herself another smile. Lucy was amused more than anything, the man in front of her was stoic, unreadable, if she’d crack a joke right now (oh how she wanted to!), the magic of the moment would dissipate and turn the whole spectacle into some vanilla sex where he’d cry into her shoulder at the end… Or something. Something forgettable.

A thud took her out of reminiscing. It was really a strange view, Bruce Banner on his knees, staring at her with those eyes like a doe in the headlights - long eyelashes, that bedhead of curly hair.

“Well?” Oh so impatient, Lucy spread her knees a little wider. It wasn’t a big deal anymore, her nudity, her modesty - she really, _really_ needed to know what this man in front of her is capable of. An unlikely character to have a battle of wills with.

He crawled. Took to her feet first, massaging them, earning himself a relaxed sigh and half-lidded eyes of the redhead looking at him with curiosity and some of that leftover petulance. She reminded him of Wanda when she had to do tests; she’d gladly play doctor with him but the actual testing part that pre-dated the fun got him eyerolls and huffing and puffing every single time.

Warm palms brushed the inside of her calves, thighs. “Warmer,” Lucy couldn’t resist, her eyes fully closed now.

His mouth joined his hands placing childlike smooches on the milky white skin. Somewhere deep inside the redhead ached to be on top of him already, foreplay and lovey-dovey shit be damned: she’d thought herself into full arousal already and he didn’t even have to try. But he needed this. Whatever this was, he needed to touch her, he needed to show her, to show himself he was safe and in control.

Warm, plush lips contrasting with the 5 o’clock stubble mere inches away from the apex of her thighs. A happy sigh, his breath on her lower lips, a low moan. “Yes, doctor,” a whispering breath, that’s all it took for him to start making out with her pussy.

There was really no other way to describe what he was doing, driving her crazy with some skilled french kissing. Slippery tongue on her clit, he lazily swirled it around like he’d been kissing a lover. Lucy shifted her hips to give him better access to the goods and was met with a muffled protest, white-knuckled fists over her thighs securely keeping her in place. Right where he wanted her.

And Banner continued like that. Slow, laid-back strokes of his tongue all inside her folds, keeping up the same place he’d started. Lucy didn’t have all day, dammit! Experimentally grinding her pussy right on his face proved to be the winning act as he upped his pace a bit, so she decided to see for herself how smooth his curls were. They looked positively Adonis-like, messy but as if each curl was perfectly styled.

Lucy found no traces of hair products in the soft tresses. Damn those perfect humans!

She used that godly hair as leverage, fucking herself onto the doctor’s face. His whole upper body went lax: Lucy won. What did she win? A toy, she supposed. The angle of his mouth was just right, all he’d had to do was do up and down on her slit and get drenched in her juices during the sweet explosion she was steadily approaching.

Little death, the French call it, la Petite Mort. Lucinda O’Riley was going to lose herself on Bruce Banner’s face like she’d lose herself on her favorite vibrator.

“Fuck, Bruce, fuckfuckfuck…” She managed to gasp out, seeing stars and colors and _fractals_ as the world beneath her eyelids burst into pleasure. She was only partially aware of the heavily breathing man who’s hair she was still holding onto, and when her eyelids finally slid open, she saw him trembling, still white-knuckled and wide-eyed.

Bruce _growled_. Lucy didn’t quite make it to the _frightened_ stage, more like alarmed, as he pulled her on top of him - wait, where did his pants go - and aligned himself with her, the hard tip brushing against her entrance in an obvious request. Banner’s body perfectly still, rigid under the softness of her curves, his face finally starting to convey the answers to the riddles of him.

Lucy roughly handled his arms behind his head, all bossy like. The desire to grin and be cocky was there, burning to get out, but somehow she’d come to a T that it’s best if she keeps her expression neutral. Not like she was fucking a world-class scientist, a doctor, a man who’s feared and admired greatly, oh no, today he was he personal dildo, her use of him no more than the erection nosing her cunt and the mouth, currently lax in his state of bliss.

Palming his _tool_, Lucy was pleasantly surprised with the thickness of it, how heavily he pulsated in her palm. He’d fit right in, and he did, wonderfully so, sliding into her hole with barely any resistance until she was seated on him, eyes closed. Soft hum left her throat and left him obviously craving more, the tension in his body increasing with the amount of his cock buried in her.

A slow rise and a rapid fall. That’s the rhythm the redhead adapted with him. It was weird to fuck a human who stayed completely still, much more different from Tony, who was all over, inside and outside her; Loki’s elegant handling of her body was something from a different planet whatsoever (pun intended absolutely), and Steve and Bucky’s use of her as the resident pocket pussy didn’t leave much room to choose anything, to call the shots. Bruce was _weird_ and she liked it.

Bracing her small palms stop Bruce’s chest, she picked up the pace, adjusted angles right up until he was brushing that sweet spot inside of her; moans and groans and gasps falling from her lips without filter.

“Lucy,” it was a half-growl, half-plea that culminated her first orgasm. She could easily feel how responsive he actually was, his hips flexing and twitching under her ass, in total sync with her cunt squeezing his length.

She stayed quiet, comparatively saying, coming to a slow rock atop Bruce after the waves of extacy subsided to a cooling breeze of satisfaction. Her mind clear of the drug-induced haze, already familiar drowsiness creeping in, Lucy took her chance to explore her current lover.

It was a party of two, just for her. Experimentally brushing his nipples and earning a flushed chest and a room full of gasps; squeezing her cunt around the length of his member making those gasps turn into frenzied panting…

Lucy opened her eyes, saw Bruce’s face flushed a deep scarlet - no trace of green - raised her torso to get a good look at her handiwork. An embarrassingly wet squelch came from their coupling, evidence of just how much the unusual scenario turned her on.

Somewhere in the background a deep, male moan resonated against the blinding white walls of the lab. Tony was sitting atop Thor and the god was balls deep in the engineer, obscenely large palms roughly holding the smaller man by the buttocks, and-

“Fuck,” the redhead subconsciously tightened around the scientist underneath her, adding another moaning male to the cacophony of pleasure in the lab. Bruce must’ve heard it, too, if judging by the speed of which he arched his back to open his eyes and stare at the vision at the other side of the lab. It didn’t take long for him to turn his attention back to Lucy.

Suddenly, the mood changed. Bruce became almost… Cheeky. “Do you like what you see, pumpkin?” And woah, what’s up with the weird nicknames? Again? Lucy smiled, disarmed, thrown off balance by the sudden change of attitude from the doctor. _Got bored playing furniture, huh?_

“Yes,” and that’s when she blushed, legitimately, from the tops of her cheeks to the tops of her breasts, like a schoolgirl.

Two scalding hands gripped Lucy’s hips, rocking her on Bruce’s dick, not letting the fluttering of her inner muscles stop with the friction. Maddening, sweet pleasure. Sigh. “Do you trust me, Lucy?” His eyes were dead serious once he managed to get her focus where it was supposed to be: on him, on his dick buried balls deep inside her snug cunt.

“Do you trust yourself, doc?” Her head was cocked to the side, all innocence and playfulness; she did. Lucy just played her cards and _let_ him win whatever little game he started. On that thought, she moved with him, slow, delicate swing of her hips.

“Get up, baby,” his voice suddenly dark and hoarse, Bruce couldn’t miss the additional rush of liquid list from her core at the change of his attitude. A wolfish grin followed her, the girl getting up on stiff legs.

The scientist appeared to be looking for something as he was getting up. Pants around his ankles and a silly striped button-up wrinkled, he looked like every teenage girl’s wet dream hot principal, the kind that would make you give a blowjob under his desk whilst double-checking your attendance card. Lucy would have missed all the lessons for a man like that… Satisfied with whatever Bruce has been thinking to himself, the man quite uncerimoniously pulled Lucy by the hand to a high table overlooking the lab.

Thor was pounding into Tony something good. There wasn’t any doubt Stark would be walking funny with his hips littered in bruises shaped like Thor’s fingertips.

Lucy had but a moment’s notice to catch herself when Bruce bent her over the table and lined his cock, slick with her juices, forcefully making his way into the deepest, warmest part of her body.

“FUCK!” The yelp must’ve alerted the men in front of her, both mutually turning to look at her and Bruce. Hot slide of his cock, now thrusting at a brutal pace and the waterfall of noises coming from her mouth… It all was too much. Too much stimulation, too much sensation at once, Lucy couldn’t do much more than hold onto the other end of the table and let her head fall into the cool surface. It wasn’t even two minutes and release was approaching her with all the speed and the grace of a freight train.

“Look at them,” came a rough voice behind her as her hair was pulling hee head into an upright position. Bruce, never stopping the relentless assault with his hips, held her by the hair like a leash, forcing her to watch Tony being absolutely obliterated by Thor.

My God, Tony was a mess. Red in the face, his ass already showing the beginnings of a myriad of little bruises, lovemarks all over his neck. Holding onto dear life by Thor’s shoulders, he allowed himself to be tossled, a ragdoll in the face of unmerciful, insatiable God.

To Lucy, Tony looked beautiful, lost in pleasure like that. His head fell back, and she could only see the whites of his eyes- “GOD!” The redhead came with a shout, squeezing and rippling around the thick member harshly drilling her very core. A wet feeling between her legs made for a brief discomfort for her whilst it only seemed to egg Bruce on: he done did the impossible, going even faster, even harder, now gripping and pulling her with the same sloppy finesse she’d witnessed from Thor in front of her.

“One more, I know you can do it,” Bruce commandeered, voice low and fucked out.

“Nonono, I can’t, I can’t,” Lucy chanted, mild stinging starting somewhere around her pubic mound. Despite reaching the peak multiple times already, her gut was still taut as a string, she desperately needed a pause, a break, but she couldn’t muster enough strength to stop. The pounding of Bruce’s hips against hers made her see stars.

There was something relieving in being held down and _taken_ like a common whore. Losing control.

A flurry of unfamiliar language preceded Thor’s roar and Tony’s pathetic whimpering, all of which caused remaining thought’s to evacuate Lucy’s head in a hurry, taking away any semblance of shame with them. Her hips attempted to match Bruce’s unrelenting pace in vain so the man simply held her down for another minute, hyperfocused on chasing his release.

She was fucked open, soaking wet, relaxed and loose from the hard pounding. He could go for hours until she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe - there were reasons, after all, to practice self-control and he’d become the best at it. In moments like these, the beast inside him took on a different shape, his darkest desires, most depraved fantasies he’d allowed himself to think of, it was all bubbling towards the surface.

There was no sophistication. Just carnal, primal lust. A deep growl leaving his chest, he withdrew his solid member from the whimpering girl. Her knees were shaking, feet wobbly. Perfect.

“We’re going to play doctor.” He stated, matter-of-factly. Wanda loved this game but they’d never gotten as far as he would have like to. She was a petite girl, all and all. Not being a large man by any means, the darker part of his became frustrated easily at Wanda’s uncooperative body.

Lucy mumbled something. It may have been yes, or it might have been no, Bruce didn’t hear as he already was off to grab a throw from the couch. Laying it atop the cold metal table, he deposited the girl on top of it, tenderly, placing her feet next to her ass, spreading her legs as far as they go.

Lucy was out of it, fucked so throughly, unlike anyone had done before. The floaty feeling from before returning, the redhead didn’t fight it either this time, perfectly content to spend some time half-numb, half-blissful somewhere between the ground and the sky. Thor and Tony, Bruce, it all faded away like a vivid dream…

She felt it, the cold, slimy touch of latex and commercial lubricant, circling her entrance with hurried care. _Did they bring a doctor to check up on me? Wait, Bruce said we’re going to play doctor…_ With that train of thought, a mild cloud of renewed arousal surrounded her head.

Two fingers dipping inside her heat met no resistance. Bruce took his time to find the soft, spongy spot of flesh that made her breath catch in her throat, adding a third finger to get the juices flowing… Himself having to exhale when he caught sight of what appeared to be the leftover seed from her previous time spent in the company of Tony and the rest.

Lucy felt pleasantly full. A mild realisation of what’s about happen lazily crossed her mind and she found herself wishing Bruce would get on with it already. She was curious about the possible results…

Being up close in the company of her flower, Banner took the time to study her flesh. The outer lips puffy, red and engorged from friction, inner lips equally swollen with lust, the opening gaping stretched around his fingers, fitting like a glove… The doctor couldn’t resist neither the taste of her sweetness, neither the gasp that left her lips when his mouth connected with her clit as he slowly introduced a fourth finger into her core.

Fluidly drawing a “U” with all four of his fingers, he relished the welcoming heat of Lucy’s pussy. She was relaxed just enough for him to not need additional lube and snug enough for it to be a challenge; clasping his fingers into the shape of a beak, Bruce placed his free hand atop Lucy’s pubic mound, applying gentle pressure that he knew she would enjoy.

Which the redhead did. Moans steadily growing on volume, her hips shifted in attempts of relieving the slight discomfort or prolonging the sensation of absolute fullness as her most delicate places were being stretched beyond the usual. Lucy wasn’t sure how long could she withstand this sweet torment of new thrills.

“Doctor, ah- what’s-ah, what are you doing?” Finally, a full sentence. Quietly, she marveled at her own capability to form one given her current predicament.

“Hush, pumpkin, I’m going to make you feel really, _really_ good.” The darkness in his voice was the unmistakable emotion of a man consumed with lust.

Bruce was enthralled no less, watching his whole hand disappear in her pussy inch by inch until only the widest part remained. Soft mewls of discomfort left the girl’s lips and he responded with open-mouthed kisses all over the outside of her pussy, finally zeroing on her clit with his lips. Suckling on it, like a babe, the doctor extracted moans and gasps from Lucy akin to a skilled musician extracting a melody from a violin; the harder he sucked, the fiercer he pushed, the higher in pitch climbed her moans until she was convulsing around his wrist, her pussy pulling him inside of her.

It was a shame he used gloves, Bruce thought absentmindedly, his free hand coming around to roughly fist his straining erection. He was hard to the brink of pain, wearing Lucy on himself like a literal glove, his balls were drawn tight the moment he laid his mouth on her swollen flower.

“Fuck, pumpkin, you’re so, _so_ good!” He exclaimed, feeling all of her - the litte aftershocks, a million flutters and squeezes of her pussy all over his hand.

With newfound drive, it took him only mere seconds to withdraw his hand from her, leaving the girl to whimper at the sudden emptiness and need that it left behind. The need to be filled again, to be used.

She was _gone_ now.

Bruce rose, stretching out the tingles in his calves, never once moving his eyes from the gaping hole of tiny redhead. One of the most beautiful things he’d seen, it called to him, appealing to the primal instinct of _breed, breed, breed_, and for once in his life, the man allowed himself to succumb.

Warmth and a squelching noises met his cock upon entrance; he gave it to her _good_. Barely feeling the stretched walls of her pussy and hastily rubbing her clit with none of the previously meticulous care; it took him a few hard shoves until his own world exploded. Bruce felt the roar in his lungs as opposed to hearing it, felt the renewed clench of her cunt as she tumbled over the edge with him, the vigorous rubbing having squeezed an orgasm out of her: fluid gushing all over him, the floor and her legs, Lucy’s abs tightened briefly until she fell, fell, fell into a deep abyss and darkness claimed her the same moment soreness hit.

Leaving a flushed, blinking Bruce Banner staring at himself buried in her with their combined fluids steadily leaking out of her well-used hole.

Leaving Tony watching from the couch, his eyes wide and hand around his half-hard dick.

Leaving Thor… Thor was bringing towels. Lots of warm, moist towels, his own member showing interest at the strange love rituals of no less strange Midgardians.


	5. i stand on the edge, and i pledge my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor. Clint. Godly fuckin'. Regular-dorky-people fucking. Some feels for seasoning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by a fic that I remember only partly. It had a Thor/Darcy aspect and something about him being the God of Fertility. It was hot and ...
> 
> ❗Edit: as of August 5th 2020: I haven't abandoned this story. I have a crazy depressive episode and smut won't write itself, all I'm getting is angst and daddy issues (lmao) so I'm waiting this shitstorm out. Thank you for reading guys, it's amazing I have more than 150 kudos. May all of you have clear skin and endless summer 💕

“I am very confused.” Lucy said that out loud to the dimly lit room. Her memories were foggy and vague, a first for her without copious amounts of alcohol. Did anybody spike the soda she drank? That was the last thing she remembered clearly, holding a purple can of Fanta.

What followed were fragments she pierced together at least enough to explain the soreness between her legs, thighs sticking together in a way that made her squirm. Squirming was the only thing Lucy could have done in her position - a warm, strong hand was holding her hostage against a no less warm chest. The coarse hair tickled her cheek and nose with every rise and fall.

Bruce was soundly sleeping. The floor under her was cold; Lucy would have found it uncomfortable if not for the man next to her, he radiated such warmth, such heat, she briefly had to consider hiring him as a space heater during the cold New York’s winters. Soft fleece blanket was wrapped around her body, a small piece of it covering Banner’s modesty. Apparently waking up naked in strange places was the new normal.

Disentangling herself from the scientist’s embrace was a hard task and upon success, the redhead wasted no time in putting on his button-up and trodding over to a set of glass doors on soft feet. She spied an elevator, figuring Jarvis would take her wherever she needed to be.

Lucy didn’t bother showering. Her body was sore, muscles tense and lax at the same time. A deep, dim ache settled itself into her abs - probably from all that dick, she thought. _I think I’m set on vitamin D for now._

“Jarvis, take me… Somewhere?”

“Would you to like to freshen up or eat?” The disembodied voice, robotic but somehow not monotonous. Another oddity become the norm.

“I’ll eat first.”

* * *

Common rooms were empty. Eerily quiet, the surroundings appeared to be less of a home now, Lucy couldn’t fathom living here anymore. Whilst the gadgets and tech was cool beyond comprehension, the redhead felt a newfound appreciation for her mom’s decorating style. Their family home was much more inviting with cream colored walls, carved wood furniture and soft beige couches.

Tony Stark’s style was chrome and black leather. Apparently billionaire asses don’t sweat, huh. _Try sitting on a leather couch in shorts during a Tennessee summer, how about that!_

Having pillaged the team’s refrigerator and procured nothing but condiments and even more condiments, Lucy settled on a tub of peanut-free moose tracks ice cream, no guilt or remorse about chowing down a treat that belonged to someone else. There was nothing else, after all and Moose tracks happened to be Lucy’s top 3 favorite flavor.

Empty tub of ice cream long forgotten and not a soul in sight still, Lucy set out to look for her bag - her smartphone was in there and she absolutely lost track of time. What if her mom had called? There was no end to her bitching when Lucy didn’t call back within an hour of, God forbid, she couldn’t pick up the phone. If anything, her mom would be calling their family’s pilot and setting up the plane to go over to Lucy’s to make sure she’s not overdosed or got too carried away having premarital sex. _Fuck._

“Can you please help me locate my purse, Jarvis?” Lucy touched her palm to her forehead, having completely forgotten about the usefulness of all-seeing AIs.

“It appears to be on the common room couch, miss.”

Oh great, she didn’t even have to look and her phone wasn’t completely dead.

“Honey, why aren’t you answering? We’re worried!” Was a text. She saw 11 missed calls from several family members.

“We just got news from the hospital. I’m sorry you got in an accident! We love you and we’ll pray for you! Jesus won’t abandon your soul, put your faith in him!” was the last text from Lucy’s mother. Evidently SHIELD had a cover-up story for what happened that day. The redhead filed away a need to interrogate someone, probably Romanoff, about how much exactly was she supposed to tell her family… And if there was a possibility to omit it was a sex pollen altogether.

“Call mom when you can, she’s all over the place and is trying to persuade the hospital to move you out of quarantine.” Ah, her baby sister, always so caring.

Some of Lucy’s friends texted too. They were by far less obsessive than her mother so she choose to answer them first: “Hey, got in an accident, stuck in quarantine @the hosp. Food sucks here. 😖 Hopefully will be out soon.” Soon enough she got replies full of compassion and get-well-soons.

Sitting curled up on the couch, nose buried deep in her smartphone, Lucy cherished the quiet island of piece at the dawn of hectic and downright unbelievable last days. Her body, so traitorous and wanton, started to feel more like she was used to. No more hot flashes, no more uncontrollable thoughts of lust. Tiredness set in, both physical and mental.

Lucy was fond of the experience, of the exploration. Despite the initial disbelief and outrage at the situation in general, being gassed with a lust inducing drug and her brief stay as the Avengers live-in sex doll… She had lots of great sex. Time of her life, even. Picking a favorite would be hard. All of the people she slept with in the past few days, each had their very unique approach and personality.

Lucy’s mind briefly paused at the thought of Loki. His publicity team worked round the clock to redeem his image after the New York incident, but even a team hired by Tony Stark couldn’t lighten up an image of the cold, regal and stoic man - _god? alien?_. Lucy had her suspicions that he was in the Asgardian ‘goth’ stage, the myths on the internet said that Thor and Loki were basically in their mid-teens when they visited the Viking part of the Europe, which could mean they weren’t exactly adults just yet…

Ah, speculation. Despite his public image, Loki proved himself to be an attentive and generous lover. Skilled, too, both physically and emotionally.

Tony, too, lived up to his Playboy image. Their coupling was the easiest to digest. She was a single young woman, he was a single willing man. Easy-peasy. No hard feeelings. They bumped uglies, had good sex and even a post-coital cuddle and nap. He got her food. That man _knew_ his hook-up manners.

Steve and Bucky, as well as Bruce, raised conflicting feelings in Lucy. The former entering a sort of stupor and totally forgetting about her - that’s just bad threesome etiquette, the latter being the worst kink communicator Lucy had ever met. A part of her felt equally guilty, too, for letting the chemical override her common sense. It turned out well due to dumb luck, she supposed. All three men could have seriously maimed her.

Lucy pulled a throw over her prone body with a sigh laying on the couch like a lazy seal, slowly coming back to reality.

“She’s sleeping in the family room. Yeah, it’s all good. Tony and Natasha are getting Bruce to bed. Yeah, you too. Bye.” The resident archer’s quietly spoken words filled the room, almost echoing due to it’s sheer size.

“I’m not actually asleep,” Lucy stretched, getting up in a semi-reclining position, arm thrown over her face. It was a comfortable blanket burrito she had burrowed herself in, no desire to leave it then or later.

The redhead felt more than heard Clint approaching her. He had quite the sneaky walk.

“I’m sorry, did not mean to bother you. How are you holding up?” His voice was soft.

“I’m alright, I think. I ate someone’s ice cream, let me know if I have to skedoodle real quick before that someone murders me,” Lucy made an attempt at humor.

“Was it the butterscotch? Then we might have to relocate you to another continent. It’s Nat’s.” Clint shot back with a quiet laugh.

“Thank God I picked moose tracks.”

“Hey, that was mine!” The archer shouted with indignation, grabbing Lucy by the ankle and skimming his fingers over the arch of her foot only to be met with a blank stare.

“I’m not ticklish.”

“That’s no fun!” The man pouted, rubbing the ball of her foot instead.

Skipping the weirdness of a stranger being so tactile with her, the redhead couldn’t do more than relax against the pillows and elicit a deep sigh. Clint’s bulky hands were made for foot rubs and her abused muscles were absolutely _aching_ for a good massage after being so overworked ovet the past few days. Lucy was the exact opposite of a gym rat and the physical stress on her body had made itself known with a passion.

“You like that?” Clint asked, curiously.

“I’m a couch potato that has been throughly exercising for the past couple of days, more than I’ve done in my entire life, combined. I think muscles are about to evacuate from my body to find a more suitable host.” She admitted, embarrassed. “I love it.”

Clint hummed, doubling down on her foot. Carefully cracking her toes one by one, he moved to stroke the arch of her foot with his knuckles, carefully meticulous with the amount of pressure.

“What’s your shoe size? Your feet are tiny.” The archer asked casually, continuing his ministrations on Lucy’s other foot.

“Ah… Four and a half, I shop in the children’s section.” The girl admitted with a laugh.

A mildly disbelieving hum from Clint; Lucy was about to start moaning with how good the massage felt. Tender but firm.

The archer was breathing heavier than before. Arching a perfectly done eyebrow, the girl studied his face with curiosity. It appeared at ease, but his breathing betrayed him. _What was he planning?_ His fingers wrapped themselves around her ankle, kneading the low of her calf with fluid strokes of his thumbs.

“I didn’t know super secret government agencies taught their operatives to give great massages. Send thanks to your boss,” Lucy giggled, feeling and acting more and more like herself.

“I’ll pass it on!” Barton laughed. “I feel like I have to get this out there…” He kind of stammered. “You have really cute feet.”

Lucy continued with the raised eyebrow in her confusion. “That’s a new one. Thanks?” The archer had to blush crimson before Lucy finally got it. “Oh. _Oh_.” Was the only thing she could muster. So he was totally hitting on her.

The team must be still thinking she’s under the drug with the resident scientist being out of commission for the time being.

“Yeah. I’m weird like that.” Barton said, finally finding his ground, chuckling. “Wanna have sex now?”

Lucy couldn’t help it, she laughed. He looked anything if not hopeful, giving that sort of tipsy-sophomore-frat-boy vibe, all blond hair, all smiles and adorable awkwardness. From what the redhead gathered, the archer was the human disaster of the rag-tag team of superheroes. His dorky, _human_ persona attracted Lucy. The resident archer seemed like a regular guy she could have met at any bar on any Friday night.

“Sure.” With that, she quickly sat on top of Clint’s lap, running her palms over his cotton-clad chest. Upon closer inspection, his PJs were printed with tiny pizzas, which made Lucy giggle even harder and bend down to put her lips on his mouth.

His kisses tasted like coffee and candy. She thought it suited him; the bittersweet taste, the smell of cheap coconut shampoo 2-in-1, the sweet Old Spice deodorant. That cacophony of smells was the most normal thing in the past couple of days. It smelled familiar enough for Lucy to relax and be in the moment without the haze of the drug.

Lucy could do the casual sex thing. It would be unfair of her to leave the possibly coolest Avenger out. She was so-o-o doing him right on this couch.

His hands, powerful and masculine, traveled along her sides, down, down to her hips. They were rough, dry, from all the time spent handling a bow; Clint definitely didn’t seem the type to use moisturizer. The scratch of his skin against her soft, tender self made Lucy exhibit an array of small gasps into the kiss.

The archer licked into her mouth with more fervor, touch growing bolder: slowly, his fingertips snuck under the hem of her borrowed shirt, giving her buttocks a gentle squeeze.

Lucy ground her hips on his prominent erection in response. Soft cotton pajamas didn’t do a great deal out of containing his boner, which was excitedly showing how happy was Clint to see her. To _feel_ her.

He pulled back to help Lucy remove the shirt over her head, too lazy to bother with undoing buttons, immediately latching onto her left nipple and happily twiddling the right, evoking a low, lazy moan and more grinding on his dick.

“You’re wearing too much.” Lucy stated, holding onto his head, tousling his blonde hair shamelessly.

“You wanna stay here or find a bed?” It took the archer a minute to extract himself from the land of boobies he was happily making his way through; face flushed, Clint’s voice sounded raspy and broken. Lucy felt herself get wetter just from the sight of the helplessly horny archer.

“Bed.” She stated.

Clint picked her up like she was a feather; it seemed inevitable that she would be carried around everywhere by these wonderfully fit people, not that the redhead felt the need to complain. It was nice when someone did the walking for you, and all you had to do was hold onto a beautifully sculpted set of shoulders and push your butt against a thick, hard member, coaxing little gasps out of the erection’s owner.

In what felt like seconds, they arrived at a bedroom with the biggest bed Lucy had ever seen and Clint was already naked and sprawled on the bed, on his back.

He didn’t have an eight-pack like Bucky did, and his pecs weren’t as huge as Steve’s tits; Clint had that manual-labor sort of fitness shape instead of the bodybuilding gym rat physique, a solid farmer’s body just like boys Lucy knew back home.

Lucy’s mouth watered at the sight of his dick. It was kind of short but thick, deliciously thick, with a brownish-pink tip that steadily leaked beads of clear fluid.

Wasting no time, Lucy swallowed him to the hilt - a shout rang somewhere on the side of her ear - moaning at the feel, at the taste of him on her tongue. A couple of swirls with the fleshy muscle had Clint bending on himself, bucking into her mouth and biting on his fist…

A curious habit of his, she noted. All the sounds that he made were quiet but strained, like he was fighting with himself to keep in some seriously unholy noises. _That won’t do._

Being small and flexible had proven to be an asset of great advantage: flipping herself over him into a 69, Lucy spread her legs and brought her feet together on his chest as she worked his dick with slow, deep strokes of her mouth.

“Oh my fucking Thor,” came the raggedy voice of the archer, pitched in disbelief.

Lucy grinned around his dick, feeling Barton’s gaze on the exposed parts of her body. “We can do him too, you know.” Stuffing his dick into her mouth was simoultaneously the best and the worst idea at that point: suddenly he was coming, with a shout of something unintelligible and _loud_; the redhead was satisfied in making him break his composure, making her own neglected parts throb and gently clench around nothing.

“Okay. Okay.” Clint panted as Lucy released his soft dick with a pop. “Okay. Man down. Whoo-oh.”

Climbing down and laying next to the puddle of agent on the sheets was the best course of action for Lucy who was torn between rubbing her swollen clit into a hasty orgasm; or, as an alternative, using the archer’s face as a sex toy to grind against. The goofy grin he was wearing - insufferable and hilarious at the same time.

“Semen demon,” Clint said after he caught his breath.

“What?!” Faking indignation, Lucy poked him right in the defined bicep. Fussing was a great excuse to grope her current bed partner as he paid it no mind, too preoccupied with laughing his ass off.

Grabbing both of Lucy’s wrists in a tight grip, Clint went on to tickle her stomach; seemingly remembering the redhead’s earlier lackluster reaction, the archer switched his course.

Two thick fingers found their way between her lower lips. The slow drag of flesh on flesh had the girl choking on her snickers, moaning, experimentally rolling her hips in time with Clint’s fingers. His touch was slow and steady and maddening.

“Seems I have found a way to make you squirm, huh?” He smirked.

“Says the man who praised gods during a blowjob _I_ gave him.” Lucy wouldn’t give up so easily, they both knew and enjoyed the game of pretend-struggle. Lucy called it _heavy flirting_.

“Says the girl who wants to use said god to satisfy her carnal desires.”

The fingers sped up by a mere two heartbeat’s worth. The heat between Lucy’s legs blossomed, she was leaking onto the bedsheets, staining them, drowning Clint in her juices. Obscenely loud noises of _wet_ perpetrated the archer’s own quiet gasps of curiosity and concentration.

“Says the man who wouldn’t be opposed to either of us letting _the god_ use _us_ for his… Carnal desires.” She was threading unknown ground here, if judging by the glint in Clint’s eye and the singular twitch of his dick, he was more than interested.

If Lucy had to be honest, she had no clue about the weird dynamic the team had going on. Seeing Tony and Thor earlier in the lab may have given her a glimpse but nothing more: in her opinion, out of all the Avengers, Clint was the most likely to be straight.

“You know, if his name gets said one too many times, he’s bound to arrive. Something something worship.” Barton thrust those two slick digits into her, hard, garnishing his thrusts with slobbery, open mouthed kisses along her jawline and neck.

The girl shook in his arms, unable to form a coherent thought: sudden change of his pace brought her white-hot bliss, peaking, gushing all over Clint’s fingers. She tumbled over the edge with an undignified shout that may or may not have been Thor’s name; to lose a game like that would have been a personal failure to Lucy.

When the rapid clenching of her walls stilled, the archer slowly withdrew his fingers, eyeing them up before sucking off the fluids with a salacious slurping sound. “You ate my dessert, I had to make do.” He winked at her red, dishiveled form.

She laughed weakly. “Not the worst option out there.”

They laid in bed like that, trading quips, holding hands. There wasn’t anything weird about it: Lucy was happy to feel, to feel the pull and desire clear-headed. Only a small amount of her brain power was required to entertain the archer who seemed to be slowly dozing off and Lucy didn’t even flinch when her breast was gently cupped by Clint’s hand. It was quite endearing, really.

Sleep didn’t come.

Her body was tired, Lucy supposed, exhausted from all the magnificent orgasms (ha!), naps after her previous encounters doing some, but very little, against the exhaustion that was felt deep in her muscles and bones.

The mind has a tendency to play tricks: when a very stressful event happens, it blocks out the things that have a directly negative meaning, such as the drug that started all of this mayhem. Only when she felt safe and relaxed beside Clint, only then did Lucy wonder: what kind of havoc it could possibly wreak on her body.

The limited medical knowledge she possessed led her to believe it was some sort of a hormone inhibitor. Would she become infertile after this? Or her babies were bound to be freaks? Lucy wasn’t naive. She knew actions had consequences. It was easy- okay, easi_er_, to stay ignorant and just enjoy the company and the caring local superheroes had provided her. But, but, but- the buts and ifs were too terrifying for one Lucy to handle on her own.

The door creaked open a couple of inches, revealing a blond mane and a pair of blue eyes curiously surveying the room.

Lucy must’ve looked weird like that: laying perfectly still, staring at the ceiling with empty eyes while one Clint Barton was holding onto her left boob for dear life. _Ridiculous_. “Hi, Thor.”

Upon hearing his name, the thunderer stepped into the room, comically slowly and softly. “Hello, Lucy.” He surveyed Barton with a grin. “Mayhaps you need a hand?”

“Eh, it’s fine.” In all honesty, Barton was probably the only thing keeping her from a panic attack. That, and Thor’s abs. He was shirtless, easy on the eyes.

Thor padded over next to her on soft feet, procuring a fleece throw from only he knew where and carefully draping it over the two laying bodies. “What keeps you up, little one?”

Lucy was taken aback at the god’s observation skills. “Stuff. I’m kind of… Worried about the after-effects of this drug.” She admitted turning ever so slightly towards the standing blonde man.

He sat down next to her. His palm, hot and huge, settled itself on top of Lucy’s head, dwarfing it comically. He was _petting_ her. _Thor_ was petting her. “Banner will figure it out. He is a brilliant man of science. I am sure.”

She’d be shamelessly lying if that didn’t take her worries away. The god of thunder had this big-hearted attitude towards her, it seemed, looking out for the small, clueless Midgardian. He’d make a fine king, Lucy thought, if even a tenth of that kindness was given to his people.

Quietly, Lucy smiled, receiving a thousand-watt grin in return.

“I don’t feel sleepy.” She said after a moment.

“I can see that.” Thor was amused. A furrow in his brow appeared, he ceased the petting. “Is your body not… Tired?”

Clint mumbled something in his sleep, something about food and raccoons and Lucy took that moment to slide from his grip to stretch and yawn. The archer rolled over onto his side, grumbling and making all kinds of funny noises. He was a goofball 24/7 it seemed.

“I’m kind of tense. In the brain area.” Lucy told Thor.

It took a moment for him to make up his mind and he was swift in his following actions: leaning back against the headboard, he pulled Lucy up to rest between his spread legs, head on his chest, her back to his front. “Should you find yourself in distress, do tell me so.” The rumble of his voice reverberated throughout his chest, as if he was permanently speaking in all caps.

Lucy nodded, curious.

Fat, round raindrops smacked against the large tinted windows, rapidly escalating in speed; within minutes, a heavy rain fell from the sky. Lucy felt Thor tense under her, focused… Captivated.

Tiny sparks appeared at the tips of his fingers. Crackling, flashing, the lightning danced on his skin-on her skin, it didn’t hurt, it didn’t tickle it just… Made her heart beat faster. Blood drew to the spots on her slender neck, the exact spots her and Thor’s skin met, white-blue flashing in the small space between.

Fixate brushes, gentle pressure - Thor was looking at her, his eyes a mixture of stormy blue and cloudy grey. Lucy’s neck, jawline, chest, all of it tingled, as if it had fallen asleep and was waking up.

_She_ felt like waking up, in that state between slumber and alertness. _Lucid dreaming_.

Her nipples, the rosy buds stood up and Thor hadn’t even directly touched them yet. It smelled of ozone and leather; he was starting to sweat. Lucy panted, suddenly hyper-aware of the twitching in their bodies. Restless. They were restless, her and the god alike.

The redhead moaned in relief when electricity met her nipples. The god was a benevolent entity, it seemed, for it took him no more than a few of fallen Lucy’s moans to flip them over. He towered over her, consuming her body with his monumental form.

Without hesitation, he took her nipple in his mouth, twirling his tongue around it.

It felt like static shocks. It felt like a ten thousand volts of flowing beautiful agony. Lucy’s hips sought out Thor’s, mindlessly, instinctively.

He wasn’t a man of many words, preferring to show rather than tell. And he was quick, quick on his feet and a quick learner: he buried his face in her cunt without preamble, seeking out the tiny bud with his lips and his tongue, transferring the Eden that was his electrical current from his tongue straight to the apex of Lucy’s sex.

Lucy’s thighs clamped Thor around the head; he didn’t seem to mind, it was probably no more than a kitten swatting a paw at him, the god only increased his pace, feverishly lapping up the moisture of her desire like a man starved, running his tongue through every fold, nook and cranny of her womanhood.

The rain was crashing outside, beating the windows and the walls, seeking out it’s master, trying to get into the room-into her, inside…

Lucy’s brain shorted as time stopped. She saw herself from the side as her eyes rolled back, unable to withstand the stimuli on her clit, all over her thighs- wherever Thor touched her, she was charged.

His member fought her womanhood, it kept clenching, pulsing after Lucy’s explosive orgasm. He fucked like he looked: powerful, fast thrusts that Lucy felt in her stomach, that made her core tighten and her insides involuntarily clench.

There wasn’t anything to clench around. She was stretched to the maximum capacity. Thor’s wicked tool was like the rest of him, charged, sending shocks inside, with every push and pull of her taut walls.

Out of body experience. One large orgasm. She smelled more ozone and saw blue and white. It felt like magic, the whole room felt like magic, they were magic and power-

Thor covered her with his body, devouring her mouth, unconcerned about the lack of response- she couldn’t, she couldn’t move and she couldn’t think and the rain got her, she was drowning, but the water was so warm.

Limp like a ragdoll, Lucy _permitted_ him to use her body for some strange ritual he was performing; Thor’s focus betrayed him. He was pounding her now, no doubt leaving bruises on her hips where he held her body.

Thunder and lightning boomed and flashed, the wall of rain impenetrable to the human eyes. Thor came with a roar that rivaled the Hulk; his strength did too, emptying himself into Lucy’s cunt, every throb of his seed felt like a punch.

That was the kiss with a fist Lucy was yearning for.

The tender brush of his lips Thor placed upon her forehead. The gentle caress of his fingers when he tenderly placed her prone body in between himself and Clint... The archer somehow managed to calmly snore through the undoubtedly noisy coupling Lucy shared with Thor. How could he miss such a show?

Shyly, sun showed the world it’s first golden rays. Lucy wondered if she’d been dreaming, maybe, if the thunderer next to her might have been a fruit of her imagination. The brain that couldn’t shut up seemingly a moment ago now was blissfully empty and still.

But… Fat drops of rainwater told another story as they slowly made their way down the glass.


End file.
